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Copyright, 1HH7, by John Donoghue. 

-THE BOXER." 

Engraved, by permission, fronn the statue by John Donoghue. 



ATHLKTICS 



AND 



MANLY SPORT 

BY 

JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY 



"It is exercise alone that supports the spirits and keeps the mind in 
\agor. ' ' — 'Cicera. 

"A man must often exercise or fast or take physic, or be sick." — 
Sir IV. Temple. 

" Anything is better than the vvhite-blooded deterioration to which we 
all tend."— O. W. Holmes. 

"There is no better preventive of nervous exhaustion than regular, 
unhurried, muscular exercise. If we could moderate our hurry, lessen our 
worry, and increase our open - air exercise, a large portion of nervous dis- 
eases would be abolished." — James Muir Howie, 



Illustrate d 



BOSTON 

PILOT PUBLISHING COMPANY 

597 Washington Street 
1890. 




'^ 



VI3! 



Copyrighted 
By JOHN BOYLE O'liEILLY 



ELECTROTTPED AND PRINTED BV 

CASHMAN, KEATING & COMPANY, 
Boston, Mass. 



DEDICATED 

TO THOSE WHO BELIEVE THAT A LOVE FOR 

INNOCENT SPORT, PLAYFUL EXERCISE. 

AND ENJOYMENT OF NATURE, 

IS A BLESSING INTENDED NOT ONLY FOR 

THE YEARS OF BOYHOOD, BUT FOR 

THE WHOLE LIFE OF A MAN. 



CONTENTS. 



ETHICS a:n^d evolution of boxing. 

Page 

I. Has Boxing a Real Value ? . . . .1 

II. Improvement in Modern Boxing ... 5 

III. Antiquity of Boxing . . . . .11 

IV. The Athletes of Ancient Greece . . . 18 . 
V. The Training of Greek Athletes . 21 >- 

VI. The Sacred Games of Greece • . . 23 V^ 

VII. The Skill of Greek Boxers . . . .26 

VIII. The Gladiators of Rome .... 31 

IX. Feudalism Suppressed Popular Athletic Exercises . 37 

X. The First Modern Champion Boxer . . 43 

XI. The First Modern Rules of the Ring . . .48 

XII. Donnelly and Cooper on the Curragh of Kildare . 52 

XIII. A Lesson even in a Fight . . . .65 

XIV. Characteristics of Great Boxers . • .75 
XV. Boxing Compared with other Exercises . . .82 

Appendix. 

The Illustrations 88 

Rules of the Ring .... . . 89 

London Prize-Ring Rules, as Revised by the British 
Pugilistic Association .... 90 

Marquis of Queensberry Rules Governing Contests for 
Endurance . . . . . .95 

American Fair- Play Rules to Govern Glove Con- 
tests 96 

(V) 



VI CONTENTS. 



THE TRAINING OF ATHLETES TESTED BY 

EVERY-DAY LIFE. 

Page 

I. Is Training Injurious ? . . . . . 101 

IL The Evils of Improper Training . . . 106 

III. Muscular Power Secondary to Respiratory Power, 111 

IV. The Food of Athletes in Training . . 114 
V. A Day's Food and Exercise in Training . . 125 

VI. Various Exercises and How to Practise Them . 131 

VII. The Curse of the Closed Windows . . . 137 

VIII. Exercise for City Dwellers and School Children, 143 

IX. Corpulence, Diet, and Sleep . • . .152 

X. Hints for Training and Good Health . . 161 



ANCIENT IRISH ATHLETIC GAMES, EXERCISES, 
AND WEAPONS. 

I. The Museum of the Royal Irish Academy . 169 

II. The Most Ancient Weapon Used in Ireland . 174 

III. The Weapon-Feats of Cuchullin . . .185 

IV. Military Athletes of Ancient Ireland . . 1S9 
V. Hurling: The Chief Game of Ancient Ireland . 195 

VI. The Ancient Games at Tailten and Carman 202 

VII. An Heroic Combat in Ancient Ireland . . 215 

VIII. A Glance Backward and Forward . . 236 



CANOEING SKETCHES. 

Canoeing on the Connecticut .... 243 

Down the Susquehanna in a Canoe . 261 

Down the Delaware River in a Canoe . . 303 

Canoeing in the Dismal Swamp . . 351 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 

" The Boxer ^' .... Fkontispiece 

Engraved, by permission, from the statue by John Donoghiie. 

Page 
A Paddle by Moonlight 241 

At the Mouth of the Rivek 256 

On the DELA^\ ake Rivek 290 

MOSELEY ox A RoUGH DESCENT 308 

At the Foot of Great Foul Rift .... 332 



ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT. 

ETHICS AND EVOLUTION OF BOXING. 

The Usual and Wrong Way to Strike a Round Blow . 8 

Round Blow ....... 9 

Ducking the Round Blow . . . . . .10 

Greek Boxers With Cestus ..... 13 

Raw-Hide Cestus from Herculaneum . . . .15 

The Round Cestus . . . . . . 16 

(vii) 



Vlll LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Page 

A Straight Cross-Counter . . . . . .28 

'* Wastes His Forces on the Wind" .... 30 

A Set-To .... .... 45 

A Round Blow Missed ...... 53 

Coming • . . . . . . .55 

Cross- Buttock ....... 57 

Cross-Countered . . . . . . .61 

Upper-Cut, as Sullivan Strikes It . . . .62 

Upper-Cut, Old-Fashioned . . . . .63 

Clinch m 

Good Position of Guard . . . . . .67 

Straight Counter . . • . . • 73 

Cross-Counter . . . . . . .81 

Ducking a Lead with the Left .... 83 

ANCIEXT IRISH WEAPONS. 

No. 

1. Firbolg Craisech . . . . .176 

2. Tuatha de Danann Sword . . . . 176 

3. Ancient Bronze Sword ..... 177 

4. Lia Lamha Laicli, or Champion's Hand- Stone . 178 

5. Tuatha de Danann Sword - • . . 179 

6. " ''''.. . • 179 

7. *' ct a j^>j9 

8. Firbolg Battle- Axe, or Celt .... 180 
0. *' " '•.... 180 

K). " '' " . . . . 181 

11. '' '' ''.... 181 

12. " '' *'.... 181 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, 



IX 



No. 

la. 

14. 
15. 

10. 
17. 

18. 
19. 
20. 
21. 
22. 
23. 
24. 
25. 
26. 
27. 
28 
29. 

30. 
31. 
32. 
33. 
34. 
35. 
36. 
37. 
38. 
39. 
40. 
41. 



Tiiatha de Danann Battle-Axe, or Celt 



Firbolg Battle-Axe 
Ancient Irish Seal 
Manais, Tuatlia de Danann Spears 



Bronze Mace ...... 

Stuic, or Irish War Horn .... 

Lic-Tailme, or Sling-Stone .... 

Military Forks ...... 

Ancient Chessman ..... 

Craisech, Avith Firbolg Fastening and Tnatha de 
Danann Point ...... 

a u i'. '.^ ii. u u 

Firbolg Fiarlanna, or Curved Pointless Blade 
Broad Green Spear . . . . • 

Firbolg Dagger, Called Colg . • . . 

Manais, or Broad Thrusting Spear . 
Slegh, Sharp -pointed Tuatha de Danann Spear 



Ancient Bronze Shield 



Page 
182 
182 
182 
183 
184 
186 
186 
187 
J 87 
187 
191 
196 
196 
198 
199 
201 

209 
209 
209 
216 
216 
216 
226 
226 
227 
227 
227 
230 
231 



CORRECTIONS. 



Page 25, fourth line — read "were" instead of "was." 
Page 71, fifth line — read "defeated" instead of "captured." 
Page 110 — read " Breakfast at 8 a. m.," instead of "8 p. m." 
Page 100, eighth line — omit the words "all-round." 



INTRODUCTION, 



This book is not intended as a mere manual for the 
special use of skilled professional or amateur athletes, 
though necessarily many of its details refer particu- 
larly to these classes. Its main purpose is to bring 
into consideration the high value, moral and intel- 
lectual as well as physical, of those exercises that 
develop healthy constitutions, cheerful minds, manly 
self-confidence, and appreciation of the beauties of 
nature and natural enjoyment. Nevertheless, these 
lines of Bunyan tell my preliminary experience : — 

" Some said, John, print it ; others said, Xot so ; 
Some said. It might do good ;. others said, Xo.'* 

So long as large numbers of our young people, of 
both sexes, are narrow-chested, thin-limbed, their mus- 
cles growing soft as their fat grows hard, timid in 
the face of danger, and ignorant of the great and 
varied exercises that are as needful to the stron<2: 
body as letters to the informed mind, such books as 
this need no excuse for their publication. 



Many will say : " the time for this sort of thing is 

(xi) 



Xli INTRODUCTION. 

past ; the world has grown too intelligent for these idle 
games and exercises; we, who know what life is, know 
that athletic sports are only symptoms of questionable 
tastes." 

The j)ride of knowledge is bad, but the pride of 
ignorance is worse ; together, tliey are almost hope- 
less. The truth is, there is more need to-day for 
physical development, for play, for sport, for athletic 
exercises and amusements of all kinds, than there was 
during the Greek Olympiads, or at any other period of 
human history. Strange, that this obvious truth 
should call for public statement. " On old and young," 
says a great modern philosopher, "the pressure of 
modern life puts a still increasing strain. In all busi- 
nesses and professions, intense competition taxes the 
energies and abilities of every adult; and, with a view 
of better fitting the young to hold their place under 
this intenser competition, they are subject to a more 
severe discipline than ever before." 

" We have not holidays enough," says an eminent 
American physician. " Five days a year is our allow- 
ance, a scanty one indeed, tlwit seems ridiculous to 
our quieter neighbors across the water, who, needing 
rest less than we, get four times as much. But there 
is no time for relaxation ; we must only do our best to 
brace up and stand the drive." 



INTRODUCTION. XIU 

What parent, who has observed the endless studies 
of his children, at school during the day, and at home 
in the evening, with little time and opportunity for 
vigorous play, and has not inwardly feared that it was 
too much for the boy or girl ? His fears are real 
warnings : they are true. The studies are too much, 
unless offset by a proportionate amount of play and 
vigorous exercise. They prevent the children from 
developing; and they also })revent them from learning. 



It IS a physiological law, pointed out by Lewes in 
his " Dwarfs and Giants," that there is an antagonism 
between growth and development — by growth mean- 
ing increase of size^ by development increase of struc- 
ture. 

The question is not only a question of bulk, but also 
a question of quality. A soft, flabby flesh makes as 
good a show as a firm one ; but though to the careless 
eye, a youth of full flaccid tissue may aj^pear the equal 
of one whose fibres are well-toned, a trial of strength 
will prove the difference. Obesity in adults is often 
a sign of feebleness. 

There is a corresponding radical difference between 
true education and the memorizing of facts. The 
meaning of the word tells its own story — e-duca- 
lion — the di-awing-out of what is in the child, not the 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

cramming undigested facts into the helpless young 
memory. The cruelty of it! AVere food forced 
into the body as facts are into the mind, so as to joro- 
duce violent dyspepsia, parents would be compelled to 
stop. But they will not see the consequent mental 
dyspepsia and its vile train of intellectual, moral, and 
physical abnormalties. Improper education stores up 
useless knowledge as unhealthy livdng stores up stolid 
fat, instead of turning it into vigorous muscle. 

'' By accelerating the circulation of the blood," says 
a scientific authority, '' it facilitates the performance 
of every function; and so tends alike to increase 
health when it exists and to restore it when it has been 
lost." For this changeless reason, the same to-day as a 
thousand years ago or a thousand years hence, play is 
a necessity of human nature ; and for this reason also 
play is superior to any regulated form of uninteresting 
gymnastic exercise. Play is the gymnastics of nature ; 
and that artificial exercise is best which comes nearest 
to it in interest and amusement. "An agreeable 
mental excitement has a highly invigorating influence." 



Play also makes an equable distribution of action to 
all parts of the body ; the action of gymnastics, falling 
on special parts, produces fatigue, and if constantly 
repeated, leads to disproportionate development. 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

"Consider the fact," says Herbert Spencer, "from 
any but tlie conveational point of view, and it will 
^eem strange that while the raising of first-rate bul- 
locks is an occupation on which men of education 
willingly bestow much time, inquiry, and thought, the 
bringing up of fine human beings is an occupation 
tacitly voted unworthy of their attention. Mammas 
who have been taught little but languages, music, and 
accomplishments, aided by nurses full of antiquated 
prejudices, are held competent regulators of the food, 
clothing, and exercise of children. Meanwhile the 
fathers read books and periodicals, attend agricultural 
meetings, try exj^eriments, and engage in discussions, 
all with the view of discovering how to fatten prize 
pigs ! Infinite pains will be taken to produce a racer 
that sha^l win the Derby : none to produce a modern 
athlete. Had Gulliver narrated of the Laputans that 
men vied with each other in learning how best to rear 
the offspring of other creatures, and were careless of 
learning how best to rear their own offspring, he 
would have paralleled any of the other absurdities he 
ascribes to them." 



There is character as well as strength in muscle ; and 
little of either in flabbiness or lard. Take the colloped 
fat from the under-chin and jowl of a young man, and 



Xvi JNTRODUCTIOX. 

put it on his arms, trunk, and legs in the shape of firm 
muscle, and, other things being equal, you improve lii. 
moral as well as his bodily health. 

All who are trained in athletics know the value of 
the " second wind." Powerful athletes are in danger 
till this is reached ; but he who has obtained his " second 
wind " in a contest can go on as long as his muscular 
power lasts. It is worth remembering that there is a 
moral as well as a physical ''second wind;" and that 
many who go down at the first trials would have 
held on to a virtuous and happy end had the fail- 
ino- character been sustained at the period of early 

■weakness. 

Fatness and softness are merely sensuous expres- 
sions, or symptoms of disease. They are non-conduct- 
ors of spiritual messages, stopping or deadening the 
finer currents of enjoyment, as an insulator stops 

electricity. 

The motive-centre of a thinker is the brain ; of a 
philanthropist, the heart ; of a sensualist the belly. 
In the latter class, a kindly or beautiful or devo- 
tional aspiration enters the mind and wanders aim- 
lessly through the flabby muscles, straying off the 
nerve at will, for the tissues have not stxflicieTit con- 
sistency to hold it on the line, until it sinks gradually 
but surely toward the marshy and forbidden wastes of 



IXTRODUCTIOX. XVU 

appetite, and is drowned, like a belated traveller, in 
the weedy morasses of the gastric-centre. 



To place manly sport in its proi:>er relation to the 
[)eople, we must save athletics from the professional 
athletes, and from the evil association of betting and 
gambling, that stunts, encumbers and disgraces almost 
all kinds of oi)en-nir exercise. 

The very fact that professionals and gamblers fasten 
on a sport, is the highest proof of its value to the 
people : your worm never selects an inferior apple. 
The popular desire is the very stock in trade of the 
professional gambler. There is only one way in which 
this reform can be thoroughly made, namely, by the 
recognition of atliletic training as a necessary and 
admirable part of general education. This will re- 
move at once the flavor of disrepute which at present 
attends a taste for manly sport. 

All healthy young people are fond of physical 
exercise ; and proper instruction is as necessary here 
as in the intellectual departments of school and col- 
lege, and will as surely result in benefit to the individ- 
ual and the state. ^ 



I desire to express my thanks to several persons 
who have assisted me in the preparation of this book, 



XVUl INTRODUCTION. 

especially to Dr. Francis A. Harris, of Boston, for his 
invaluable paper on the physiology of athletic train- 
ing ; to the Hoston Herald^ for its enterprising publica- 
tion of the article on boxing, the plates of which The 
Herald generously presented to me ; to my friend, 
John Donoghue, the sculptor, for permission to en- 
grave his great statute of " The Boxer ; " and to the 
Editor of Outing^ for the use of several illustrations 
from that interesting^ magfazine. 

John Boyle O'Reilly. 



ETHICS AND EVOLUTION OF BOXING. 



HAS BOXING A REAL VALUE? 

''Both amoDo- the Greeks and Romans," savs 
an eminent authorit}^ ''the practice of pugilism 
was considered essential to the education of their 
youth, from its manifest utility in strengthening 
the body, dissipating all fear, and infusing a 
manly courage into the system." 

The Greeks and Romans kept boxing in its 
proper relation to every-day life ; not as a brutal 
exhibition of skill or strength, but as a healthy 
exercise to invigorate the body, expand the chest, 
strengthen and quicken the muscles, and render 
mind and body free, supple, strong, and con- 
fident. 

" There is nothing that interests me like good 
boxing," said Sir Robert Peel. "It asks more 
steadiness, self-control, ay, and manly courage, 
than any other exercise. You must take as well 
as give, — eye to eye, toe to toe, and arm to arm." 

(i) 



Z ETHICS OP^ ROXTXG AND MANLY SPORT. 

Mr. Evelyn Denisoii, once speaker of the House 
of Commons, describing an interview with Lord 
Althorp, the minister AAho led the British Com- 
mons wdien the Reform Bill was passed, says : 
''Lord Althorp became eloquent; he said that 
his conviction of the advantages of pugilism was 
so strons: that he had seriously been considerino- 
whether it was not a dut}' that he owed to the 
public to go and attend every prize fight which 
took place, and thus to encourage the noble 
science to the extent of his powder." 

"We are the Romans of the modern world," 
says the illustrious "Autocrat of the Breakfast 
Table," speaking of Americans — "the great as- 
similating people. Conflicts and conquests are, of 
course, necessary accidents with us, as with our 
prototypes. And so we come to their style of 
weapon. . . . The race that shortens its 
w^eapons lengthens its lioundaries. CoroUary : It 
was the Polish lance that left Poland at last with 
J nothino' of her own to l)ound. 

" ' Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear! ' 

" What business," continues Dr. Holmes, "had 
Sarmatia to be fighting for liberty with a fifteen- 
foot pole between her and the breasts of her 
enemies? If she had but come to close quarters, 
there might have been a chance for her.' 



HAS BOXING A REAL VALUE? 3 

To these famous and wise men might be added 
a long list of others, equally distinguished, who 
appreciated the personal and national value of 
generations trained to manly exercises, their 
bodies developed, and their minds calmly confi- 
dent in the ready power of self-defence. 

Take an eminent man of a contrary opinion, 
and see how few will l)e ready to agree with him ; 
how many will feel shocked at his w^ord, as the 
expression of a false and injurious doctrine. 
Sydney Smith, who liked almost everything that 
w^as good, ])y some queer mental perversion, 
despised and detested manly"exercises. *^ There 
is a manliness in the athletic exercises of public 
schools," he says, '^Avliich is as seductive to the 
imagination as it is utterly unimportant in itself. 
Of what importance is it in after life whether a 
boy can play well or ill at cricket, or row a boat 
with the skill and precision of a waterman? If 
our young lords and esquires were hereafter to 
w^restle together in public, or the gentlemen of 
the bar to exhibit Olympic games in Hilary term, 
the glory attached to these exercises at public 
schools would be rational and important. But of 
what use is the body of an athlete, wdien w^e have 
gooa Jaws over our heads, or when a pistol, a post- 
chaise, or a porter, can be hired for a few shillings ? 
A gentleman does nothing but ride or walk, and 



4 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

yet such a ridiculous stress is laid upon the manli- 
ness of the exercises customary at public schools." 

How many will say that this is sound doctrine 
for a man or a community? It is of little impor- 
tance, perhaps, whether or not a grown man can 
play cricket or row a boat ; but it is of very great 
importance, no matter how cheap pistols or post- 
chaises may be, that, in case he were called on, 
for personal or patriotic duty, to swim or climb 
for a life, to fight for a child or a woman, to de- 
fend his country in the field, he should ))e ready 
with a strong body, a stout heart, and a trained 
hand and mind to raise him over difficulty and 
dano;er. 

In speaking of boxing, it is not necessary to 
apologize for prize-fighting or prize-fighters. It is 
enough to study the growth and worth of boxing 
as a healthy and manly exercise. But even for 
the prize-ring, much might be said to show that 
to it alone is due whatever is known of order and 
fair play in a personal encounter. 

" The rules of the ring" are the condensed opin- 
ions of fiiir-minded men as to what is to be and is 
not to be allowed in a personal fight, whether public 
or private (except the London Eing Eules, for 
which see pages 7 and 89). Every unfair method 
is condemned ; and, no matter how rough the 
crowd at a personal conflict, a foul blow, or a 



IMPROVEMENT IN MODERN BOXING. 5 

cruel advantage, is sure to be shouted down as 
cowardly and disgraceful. 



II. 

IMPROVEMENT IN MODERN BOXING. 

The chief reason Avhy boxing has fallen into 
disrepute is the English practice of prize-fighting 
Avith bare hands, and under improper rules. 

The American champion, Sullivan, has done 
more than attempt to defeat all pugilists who 
came before him : he has made a manly and most 
creditable effort to establish the practice not only 
of sparring, but of fighting, with large gloves ; 
and secondly, he has made the round blow 
''scientific." He also has insisted, whenever he 
could, that contests should be ruled by three- y 
minute rounds of fair boxing. 

The adoption of gloves foj' all contests will do 
more to preserve the practice of boxing than any 
other conceivable means. It will give pugilism 
new life, not only as a professional boxer's art, 
but as a sreneral exercise. The brutalities 
of a fio:ht with bare hands, the crushed nasal 
bones, maimed lips, and other disfigurements, 
which call for the utter abolition of boxing in the 



G ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

interests of humanity, at once disappear when the 
contestants cover their hands with large, soft- 
leather gloves. 

There is no loss in the quality of the contest 
either, as those who have seen both kinds of 
boxing A\ ill testify. All that is worth noting and 
testing of courage, temper, strength, tenacity, 
endurance, force, rapidity, precision, foresight, 
can l)e as completely proven, or rather can be 
better or more plainly proven, in a glove contest 
than in a bare-handed fight. 

Such a change as is here contemplated w^as 
never dreamt of even ten yeavs ago. British 
boxinir was a lamentable exhibition at all times; 
but for twenty-five years past it has been sinking 
lower and lower in disrepute. The greatest and 
manliest physical exercise has been, for this 
reason, in danger of complete extinction. 

^' Surely a precious tiling: one worthy note, 
Should thus be lost forever from the earth." 

It is hoped that the recent bare-handed tight 
between Sullivan and Mitchell in France will be 
the last of its brutal kind.* 

This fight contains in itself a complete illustra- 

*The men fought near Chantilly, France, on March 10, 1888, 
for £500 and the championship of the world. The rules were 
those of the London Prize King. The fight lasted three hours 
and eleven minutes, in which time 39 regular rounds, and 



IMPROVEMENT IN MODERN BOXING. 7 

tion of the very worst features of English prize- 
fio'htino'. The London Eino- Eules, under which 
this contest was conducted, enabled the inferior 
man to escape, and might easily have made him 
the victor. These rules (see page 89, Appendix) 
were apparently meant to prevent, not to insure, 
fair and manly boxing. Had Mitchell been com- 
pelled to stand up and fight for three-minute 
rounds, and had he been prevented from fall- 
ing to escape danger, there would have been a fair 
test of both men's al)ility. Again, had Sullivan 
kept to his natural style of fighting, with a master- 
ful spirit compelling his opponent, mstead of 
adopting a slow and watchful method, it would have 
been far better for him. In fact, everything was 
against Sullivan, and in favor of the gamblers who 
evidently ruled the contest. He was overtrained 
(see pages 108-9 for efiect of over-training). He 
had lost forty pounds in about six weeks, most 
seriously aftecting the weight of his blows ; and 



four or five irregular, were fouglit. After five or six rounds, 
diu'ing wliicli he was knocked down literally every time he 
stood up, Mitchell adoi^ted a system of running away and fall- 
ing to escape blows. A cold rain was falling, and Sulli- 
van became chilled, and in the thirty-fifth round he had 
a fit of ague. He was overtrained; he had hurt his 
right hand; he was too heavy to plough through the nuid 
after his running adversary, whom he could not catch; so he 
agreed to end the contest by a draw\ 



/ 



8 



ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 




in this reduction not only had he sacrificed ner- 
vous force to muscular power, but he had lost the 
necessary fat to keep him from getting chilled in 
the slow fight ensured by the Lon- 
don Rules. 

In America, Sullivan's example 
has done much to bring glove con- 
tests into professional practice ; 
and when the man's faults are re- 
hearsed, it is only fair that this 
should be remembered. In other 
respects it is beyond doubt that he 
is one of the most remarkable box- 
ers in the whole history of the 
exercise. (See page 75 for analy- 
sis oi nis method of fi2:htinof, which of course is 
a study of the man when at his best.) 

Sullivan's second achievement is, undoubtedly, 
the crystallization of the round blow. This is 
one of the 2:reatest additions ever made to the 
pugilism of the ring. The round blow, safely 
delivered, is the most powerful and effective of 
all blows. 

\ Sullivan did not invent the round blow. It 
is as old as boxing ; indeed it is one of the natural 
movements of human attack. It was the leading 
blow of the Greeks with the brutal cestus, or armed 
glove. It is the very blow that a strons^, awk- 



THE USUAL, AND 

WRONG, WAY TO 

STRIKE A ROUND 

BLOW. 

of hii 



IMPROVEMENT IN MODERN BOXING. 9 

ward, ignorant man woulcl strike, and thereby 
disable himself — for the round blow, wrongly 
delivered, is far more terrible to the o-iver than to 
the receiver. 

Formerly, boxers delivered the round blow 
almost with a straight-arm swing, some with the 
front knuckles leading, and some with the back, 
and some again with the thumb knuckle, or with 
the palm or ''heel of the fist." But most of 




llOl^D BLOW. 

(Instantaneous Photograph.) 



these came oft* with sprained joints or broken 
wrists, while their opponents easily escaped the 
slow swing by ''ducking," or threw up the elboW 
at an acute angle and smashed the delicate bone 
of the striker's forearm. 

The secret of striking the round blow safely 
lies in the position of the knuckles. Just as in 



10 ETHICS OF BOXING A^TD MANLY SrORT. 

true cutting: with a sword, the elbow and knuckles 
are the test. Ask an unskilled man to make the 
'•cut one" with a sabre (from right to left, hori- 
zontally), and he will, assuredly, cut ii^itli the 
back of the sivord for two-thirds of the distance. 
Simply because he keeps his elbow and his 
knuckles turned up instead of down. And so 
with all sword-cuts. So, too, with the round 
blow in boxing. An unskilled boxer v>^ill swing 




DL•CKI^■G THE KOU^D BLOW 

(Instantaneous Photograph.) 



the hand obliquely upward, with the palm down- 
ward or toward his body. Instead, the elbow 
must be slightly raised, the back of the hand 
turned toward the body. This brings the sti'ik- 
ing joints of the hand square in the lead. 

A good l)oxer, in striking the round blow, instead 
of loosening body and arm, gathers himself into a 



ANTIQUITY OF BOXIXG. 11 

heap of muscularity and begins his blow where 
all l)lows ought to begin, from the solidarity of 
the ri<>'ht foot. He l^ends the risfht arm into an 
obtuse angle, the elbow slightly raised from the 
side, and throws the entire weight of l)ody and 
momentum of released biceps into the blow. 

Therefore, it may be said, that the last few 
years have witnessed a greater permanent advance 
in boxing than any period since the time of John 
Broughton, who was the British champion from 
1734 to 1750, and who has been, though not very 
truly, called ^'the founder of the modern art of 
self-defence." 



TTI. 

ANTIQUITY OF BOXIXG. 

British and Irish athletes have done nuich for 
boxing ; but an examination of the whole field 
would lead to the conclusion that ''the modern 
art of self-defence" is not so modern as some 
people think. 

Boxino; is the only art of attack and defence 
Avhich we have as an unl)roken inheritance from 
the ancients. 

Every weapon used by men has been changed 
in use and shape within one thousand, much less 



12 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

two thousand years. The pike, the bow, the 
mace, the axe, are abandoned. The only ancient 
weapon that has not been thrown aside is the 
sw^ord ; and that has been doubled in length, and 
used in quite other ways than the Greek and 
Roman use. 

There is a close relationship between the history 
of the sword and that of boxino;. 

Both Greek and Roman used the short sword 
(average of about twenty inches) undoubtedly as 
a stabbing weapon — as distinct from a cutting 
w^eapon. The only weapon obviously used for 
cutting among the ancients was the curved sword 
of the Lacedaemonians and the Irish, specimens 
of which can be seen in the Royal Irish Academy 
Museum, and which almost exactly resembled the 
present scimetar of the Persians. 

All the gladiatorial sword fights of the Romans 
were with the short, straight sword, like a 
Scottish claymore ; and when the hapless loser 
threw up his hands and the people shouted ^'Hoc 
Habet! " (''He has got it \ ") they knew that the 
victor had driven his straight weapon between his 
opponent's ribs. 

But with the northern conquest of Rome the 
use of the straight sword, or rather the use of the 
point as the principal means of attack, practically 
disappeared for over a thousand years, and when 



ANTIQUITY OF BOXING. 



13 



it came again, it was in tiie long, light rapier play 
of the Italian and French schools of fence. 

Bat all this time the boxing skill of Greek and 
lionian must have come traditionally and practi- 
cally down from fother to son, the only change 
being in the dropping of the hand-weights and 
bandages. 




GREEK BOXERS WITH THE TESTUS. 

When Pollux obtained the boxing victory at the ^ 
Pythian games, he wore gloves or leathern ban- 
dages filled with lead and iron. When Sullivan 
defeats his man, he uses soft gloves filled with 
curled hair. This is the chano-e of time and ^ 
judgment. The latter is the better test. A 
chance blow from the heavy cestus cracked a 



14 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

man's skull or broke his arm. There are no 
chance blows in a first-rate modern fio-ht with 
li'loves. 

But, so far as we can find, the " set-to " of the 
Greek and Roman boxers was not unlike modern 
pugilism. The records are rather v^ague as to the 
ancient manner of aivino; and ofuardino; blows, but 
there are some writings and numerous drawings 
and carvings showing that the position and action 
of the engaged boxers were precisely then as they 
are to-day. 

In a Greek drawing' of ])oxers with the cestus 
now before me, one of the men stands in a most 
approved modern attitude, the left foot and hand 
advanced, the left arm slightl}^ bent, and the 
right arm held across the lower chest, just as a 
careful boxer of to-day covers ''the wind" or 
" the point." 

The Greeks were the first boxers. Pugilism 
appears to have been one of the Cxarliest distinc- 
tions in play and exercise that appeared between 
the Hellenes and their Asiatic fathers. The 
unarmed personal encounter was indicative of a 
sturdier manhood. The suppleness and adroit- 
ness of the Oriental were supplanted l)y the 
heavier build and more direct attack of the 
European. 

The modern Enolishman claims for his country 



ANTIQUITY or BOXING, 



15 



the invention of the art of boxing, at least with 
skill and l)are hands. 

''^ James Figg was the father of l)oxing/' says 
" The History of British Boxing," and " Brough- 
ton was the first man who tauo:ht counterino- and 
parrying and bending to escape a 1)lo\v." This^ 
claims quite too much. 

Two thousand five hun- 
dred years ago Greek 
boxers used only their 
bare hands. They did 
nothing rudely, or in- 
completely, in Greece ; 
and their exercise must ^ 
have been much the same ' ^ 
as ours. Later, as the 
contests at the o-reat na- 
tional games of Greece 
became fiercely earnest, 
the hands and arms were 

surrounded with thongs of leather, at first reach- 
ing to the wrists, like our '' hard gloves," then 
carried up to the elbow, and afterward extending 
up to the shoulder, the hands being heavily 
weighted and knobbed with lead and iron. 

The cestus of the Greeks, copied by the 
Komans, was a dreadful boxino; olove, or o-aunt- 
let, composed of raw-hide thongs and metal. 




■^((^(VJ )\ 



RAW-HIDE CESTUS FROM 
HERCULANEITM. 



16 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

A tremendous cestus, found in Herculaneum, 
was composed of several thicknesses of raw 
hide fastened together and rounded on the 
edge. Holes were cut through for the fingers, 
and the thumb overhipped the side. 

It is evident from this cestus that there were no 
"straight blows" in Greek boxing when it was 
used. A ''straight counter" would obviously 
break the striker's fingers, for the striking point 
is inside the raw-hide plates. This cruel boxing 
o'love could onlv have been used for round blows, 
or for the absurd old English blow called ''the 
chopper," which was delivered by the l)ack of the 
hand in an outward and downward swing. 




THE RO^^'D CESTL: 



Here (as Greek art tells us) is the form of 
cestus used by Tollux, one of the twin brothers 
who " fought their way like Hercules himself to 
a seat on Mt. Olympus." 

These twins, the Dioscuri, presided over all 
Greek games. Castor being the god of equestrian- 
ism, Pollux the god of boxing. 



ANTIQUITY OF BOXING. 17 

In those golden days, Amycus, son of Neptune, 
was king of the Bebryces, and he was a famous / 
boxer with the cestus; indeed, he called himself 
" the champion of the world/' He kept a stand- 
ins; challeno:e to all comers. When the Aim)- 
nauts were o^oins: to Colchis for the 2;olden fleece, 
they touched at the port of Amycus, and were 
received most kindly by the king, who was evi- 
dently " spoiling for a fight." He told his guests 
after dinner that he could -'knock out "any boxer 
in Greece or elsewhere ; that he could, as modern 
challengers express it, ''send them to sleep." 

Amono' the Aro^onauts was Pollux, who had 
lately been w^inning the first prizes at the Pythian 
games. He accepted the challenge, not knowing 
that it was the custom of Amycus to kill his man 
with a foul blow. The fight came ofi*, and it was 
a resolute controversy. Amycus tried all his 
skill and strength to deliver his wicked blow, but 
now he had met a mighty man. At last Amycus 
tried to get in his deadly stroke by a trick, and 
this roused the wrath of Pollux, who straightway 
killed the unfair fighter, and bound his body to a 
tree. The form of cestus on the preceding page is 
from an antique bronze representing the battle. 



18 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT, 



IV. 

THE ATHLETES OF ANCIENT GREECE. 

The term ''athlete" was applied in Greece 
only to those who contended in the public games 
for prizes, exclusive of musical and other contests 
where bodily strength was not needed. It was 
not applied to what we call amateurs, or those 
who exercised without the incentive of a prize. 
The ' ' athletes " were the distinct forerunners of 
the trained lighting men who became a profes- 
sional class in Greece (400-300 b. c). It was 
not the value of the prizes themselves which led 
men to devote their lives to athletic exercises. 
That was at most very insignificant. But, from 
the heroic legends of competitions for prizes, 
such as those at the funeral of Patroclus, from 
the great antiquity of the four national games 
of Greece (the Olympian, Pythian, Nemean 
and Isthmian, with the local Panathen^ea at 
Athens) , and from the high social position of the 
competitors in early times, there gradually be- 
came attached to each victory in one of these 
games so much glory that the townsmen of a 
victor were ready to, and frequently did, erect a 



THE ATHLETES OF ANCIENT GREECE. 19 

statue to him, receive him in triumph, and care 
for him the rest of his life. 

The actual prizes offered at the Greek national 
o;ames were of no intrinsic value. The hiirhest 
reward was the sense of having done well. At 
the Olympian games the victor was crowned with 
olive ; at the Pythian games, with laurel ; at the 
Nemean games, with parsley ; and at the Isthmian 
games with pine. 

But though the Greek games, in this respect, 
favorably compare with the gambling and greed 
of our modern race-course or other contest, the 
reward of the victor was not wholly comprised in 
his olive crown, or his sense of glory. The suc- 
cessful athlete received splendid rewards. At 
the Olympic games, a herald proclaimed to the 
multitude the winner's name, his parentage, and 
his country ; the priests took from a table of ivory 
and gold the olive crown and placed it on his head, 
and in his hand a l)ranch of palm ; as he marched 
in the sacred procession to the Temple of Zeus, 
his admirers showered flowers in his path, and 
costly gifts, and sang the old A^ictor song of 
Archilochus. His name was then inscribed in the 
Greek Calendar. ''Fresh honors and rewards 
awaited him on his return home," says F. Storr. 
''If he was an Athenian, he received, accordin^: 
to the law of Solon, five hundred drachmae, and 



20 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

free rations for life in the Prytaneum ; if a Spar- 
tan, he had the post of honor in battle. Great poets 
like Pindar, Simonides, and Euripides sung his 
praises, and sculptors like Phidias and Praxiteles 
were enirao'ed by the State to carve his statute. 
. . . Altars were built, and sacrifices offered 
to a successful athlete." 

No wonder, then, that an Olympian prize was 
regarded as the crown of human happiness. 

Cicero tells the story of Diagoras of Ehodes, 
who, having himself won a first prize at Olympia, 
and seen his two sons crowned as winners on the 
same day, was addressed by a Laconian in these 
words: ''Die, Diagoras, for thou hast nothing 
short of divinity to desire." Alcibiades, when 
declaring his services to the State, puts first his 
victory at Olympia, and the prestige he had won at 
Athens for his magnificent display. 

But, perhaps, the most remarkable evidence of 
the value the Greeks attached to athletic powers 
is a casual expression of Thucydides, when de- 
scribing the enthusiastic reception of Brasidas at 
Scione. ''The Government," he says, " voted 
him a crown of gold, and the multitude flocked 
round him and decked him with garlands, as 
though he icere an athlete,'' 



THE TRAINING OF GREEK ATHLETES. 21 



THE TRAINING OF GREEK ATHLETES. 

Against specially trained athletes the better 
class of Greek citizens refused to compete, and the 
lists of the public games being thus left practically 
open to professionals, training became more a 
matter of system and stud}', particularly in regard 
to diet, \yhich was rigorously prescribed for the 
athletes by a public functionary. 

At one time the principal food of Greek athletes 
consisted of fresh cheese, dried figs, and wheaten 
bread. Afterward meat was introduced, gener- 
ally beef or pork; but the bread and meat were 
taken separateh^ the former at breakfast and the 
latter at dinner. Except in wine, the quantity 
was unlimited, and the capacity of some of the 
heavy weights must have been enormous, if such 
stories are true as those about Milo. 

Milo was not a boxer, but a wrestler. He was 
six times victor at the Olympian games. He was 
a o^reat soldier, a successful ixeneral. He carried 
a four-vear-old heifer on his shoulders throuo'h 
Ol3"mpia, and afterward eat the whole of it in one 
day. Poor Milo, strong' as he was, died horribly 



22 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

in the end. Passing through a forest one day, he 
saw the trunk of a tree that had been partially 
split open. He tried to rend it farther, but the 
wood closed on his hands, and while he was thus 
held he was devoured by wolves. 

The training of Greek athletes consisted, beside 
the ordinary gymnastic exercises of the jpalcestra, 
in carrvinof heavv loads, liftino' weights, bendins: 
iron rods, striking at a suspended leather sack 
filled with sand or flour, taming bulls, etc. 
Boxers had to practise delving the ground to 
strengthen their upper limbs. The competitions 
open to athletes were in running, leaping, throw- 
ing the discus, wrestling, boxing, and the Pan- 
cratium, or a combination of boxina' and wrestlino:. 

Victory in this last was the highest achieve- 
ment of an athlete, and was reserved only for 
men of extraordinary strength. The competitors 
were naked, haAdniif their bodies salved with oil. 

An athlete could begin his career as a boy in 
contests set apart for boys. He could appear 
again as a youth against his equals, and, though 
always unsuccessful, could go on competing until 
the aae of thirtv-live, Avlien he was debarred, it 
being assumed that after that period of life, he 
could not improve. The most celebrated Greek 
athletes whose names have been handed down, 
beside those al)ove mentioned, are Milo, Hippos- 



THE SACRED GAMES OF GREECE. 23 

thenes, Hercules, Eryx, Anteeus, Epeus, Eiiry- 
alus, Entellus, Polydamus, Promachus and Glau- 
cus. 

Cyreiie, famous in the time of Pindar for its 
athletes, appears to have still maintained its repu- 
tation to at least the time of Alexander the Great, 
for in the British Museum are to be seen six prize 
vases carried off from the games at Athens by 
natives of that district. These vases, found in the 
tombs of the winners, are made of clay, and are 
painted on one side with a representation of the 
contest in which they were won, and on the other 
side with a figure of Pallas Athenae, with an in- 
scription telling where they were gained, and in 
some cases addino- the name of the mao:istrate of 
Athens, from which the exact year can be obtained. 



VI. 

THE SACRED GAMES OF GREECE. 

It is not to be doubted that the Greek boxers 
attained to a hi2:h dei>'ree of skill in counterinof 
and parrying. No awkward or unskilled athletes 
were allowed to appear at the Olympian or other 
national shames, where boxins: was one of the five 



24 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPOKT. 

principal exercises. At the Olympian games, the 
order was leaping, running, throwing, boxing, 

wrestlins:. 

It may be truly said that the supremacy of 
Greece as the teacher of the AVestern and North- 
ern world in all the higher forms of civilization, 
was inthnately related to the marvellous compe- 
tition of physical and intellectual manhood in 
these great sacred games. So profoundly was the 
Greek mind affected by the games, which were held 
every four years at Olympia, that time was divided 
into Olympiads, and this method of reckoning 
continued for many centuries. 

Prizes at these games were given not only for 
athletic exercises, but for music, singing, oratory, 
and poetry. Herodotus read his history at the 
Olympic, and Orpheus won the first prize for 
music at the Pvthian o-ames. Alcibiades, the 
Athenian scholar, soldier, ruler, says Plutarch, 
was the most successful and the most magnificent 
in his exercises of all that ever contended in these 
games. He obtained at one solemnity (the Olym- 
pic, which lasted five days), the first, second, and 
fourth prizes for chariot-racing. 

There is a lesson for moderns in these national 
irames of Greece. There was no other occasion 
on which the Greek was so forcil)ly impressed 
with the i>lory of his own race and nationalitv. 



THE SACRED GAMES OF GREECE. 25 

The games were opened to all Greeks. There 
was no exemption — except for women. 

There was a risrorous law that if any woman 
was found so much as to have passed the river 
Alplieus during the Olympian games, she was to 
be thrown headlong: from a rock ; and this con- 
tinned until Pherenice, who went diso;uised to 
attend on her son while he wrestled, \vas appre- 
hended and tried. She vras acquitted, out of re- 
spect to her father, brothers and son, who had all 
won first prizes at the games. Afterward women 
were admitted, and then even contended at the 
games. C^aiisca, the daughter of Archidamus, 
was the first woman who was crowned at Olym- 
pia ; and after her, many women, especially those 
of Macedonia, were crowned as the winners of 
prizes. 

The Eomans also excluded Avomen ; but Augus- 
tus allowed them to witness the o-ladiatorial fio:hts, 
and assio-ned them a place in the hi^'hest seats of 
the amphitheatre. 

Eich and poor among the Greeks were allowed 
to enter on the same terms. The preparatory 
course was long, arduous, and not to be escaped. 
Every competitor Avas obliged to give ten months' 
traininof before he Avas alloAved to enter thea^ames. 
The public gymnasium Avas at El is, and thither 
the competitors had to go for the ten months of 
training. 



26 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

This rule was so important that if a man won a 
prize and it was then found that he had evaded 
any portion of this long training, the prize was 
given to his opponent, thus showing the value laid 
upon the continuous physical education l)y those 
in authority. 

To ofuard as^ainst o-amblino- and dishonorable 

G f:^ o jt; 

practices, contenders had to swear that they had 
fulfilled the conditions of entering ; and they, 
their fathers and brethren took, also, a solemn 
oath, that they would not, hy an unfair or un- 
lawful means, endeavor to stop or interfere with 
the proceedings of the games. 

It is not likely that athletes trained in this 
manner were inferior boxers, nor that they were 
ignorant of such primary principles as countering 
and parr\^ing. 



YII. 

THE SKILL OF GREEK BOXERS. 

It is easy to prove that the Greek was a master 
not only of the straight-counter (which any man 
Avho used a short, straight sword would naturally 
learn), but of the cross-counter, one of the most 
skilful and effective blows known to modern 
boxins:. 



THE SKILL OF GREEK BOXERS. 27 

In Homer's time, the cross-counter, which is 
supposed to be comparatively a recent discovery 
in pugilism, was clearly understood. Let any one 
who understands boxing follow the movements in 
this description by Homer of the l:)are-handed 
fight between Ul3^sses and the ruflSan Irus. The 
ruffian, a giant in size, has grossly insulted 
Ulysses, wdio is in disguise, and a ring is formed 
by a lot of idlers eao-er to see a fioht. 

The bully, Irus, like all bullies, is a coward. 
He has watched Ulysses stripping, and is terrified 
when he realizes the kind of man he has aroused. 
But he is dragged to the scratch, and as they face 
each other, Ulvsses, distrusted at his crino^ini>: 
cowardice, concludes that he is not worth killing, 
and that he will only ''knock him out.'' Just 
then Irus strikes out savagely — he " led with his 
left," in the parlance of the gymnasium. We 
know it was his left, because the blow fell on 
Ulysses' right shoulder. Says Homer, who evi- 
dently knew just what he was describing : 

*' On his right shoulder Irus laid his stroke; 
Ulysses struck him just beneath the ear, 
His jawbone broke, and made the blood appear; 
When straight he strewed the dust." 

Now, this was a straio:ht-cross-counter, accu- 
rately described, and it tells a whole story of 
striking and parrying, as we shall see presently. 



28 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Here is another rendering of the same fight from 
Pope's transkition : 

" That instant Irus liis huge arm extends, 
Full on his shoulder the rude weight descends, 
The sage Ulysses fearful to disclose 
The hero latent in the man of woes, 
Check'd half his might, yet, rising to the stroke, 
His jawi)one dash'd; the crashing jawbone broke." 

Now, let us analyze this engagement. Irus 
leads with his left at Ulysses' head, and his blow 
falls on the ric/Jif ^shoulder. Therefore, Ulysses 




A STRAIGHT CROSS-COUNTER. 

(Instantaneous Photograph .) 



did just what to-day Sullivan or Smith would do ; 
he moved his head to the left, and let the blow- 
come full on his right shoulder — with a purpose. 
For he, at the same moment, '' rising to the 
stroke," crossed Irus' arm with his right, " struck 
hiin just beneath the ear," broke his jaw, and 



THE SKILL OF GREEK BOXERS. 29 

knocked him out. He must have done this, for 
there was no other way of breaking Irus' jaw. 
He could not have struck him with his left, for 
Irus' jaw was nearer to his right. 

This straio'ht cross-counter, which the Greeks 
knew, is the most effective and the most powerful 
blow that can be given, except the round blow. 

Of the fight between the heavy-A^eight Epeus 
and Euryalus, after the funeral of Patroclus, here 
is a report : 

'^ Him great Tydides urges to contend, 
Warm with the hopes of conquest for his friend ; 
Officious with the cincture, girds him round, 
And to his wrists the gloves of death are bound. 
Amid the circle now each champion stands, 
And poises high in air his iron hands; 
With clashing gauntlets now they fiercely close. 
Their crackling jaws reecho to the blows. 
And painful sweat from all their members flows. 
At length Ei^eus dealt a weighty blow 
Full on the cheek of his unwary foe ; 
Beneath the ponderous arms' resistless sway 
Down dropped he nerveless, and extended lay." 

Here we see that the Greek l)oxer wore a belt 
like the modern, and that he fouo'ht in a rino- ; but 
of the details of this fight we can judge nothing. 

There is a boxing match, however, in the 
''^Eneid,'' between Dares and the aged Entellus, 
in which the manner of the fis^ht is 2:iven more 
clearly, and from which we learn that there was a 



30 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

complete system of striking and parrying, and, at 
least, one of the boxers was an adept at ''ducking " 
and ' ' o-ettino' away : " 




HE "AYASTES HIS FORCES ON THE WIND.' 

(Instantaneous Photograph.) 



This said, Entellus for the fight prepares, 
Stripped of his quilted coat, his body bares: 
Composed of mighty bones and brawn he stands, 
A goodly, towering object on the sands. 
Then just ^Eneas equal arms supplied, 
Which round their shoulders to their wrists they tied. 
Both on the tip-toe stand, at full extent, 
Their arms aloft, their bodies inly bent; 
Their heads from aiming blows they bear afar, 
With clashing gauntlets then provoke the war. 
Yet equal in success, they ward, they strike. 
Their w^ays are different, but their art alike. 
Before, behind, the blows are dealt; around 
Their hollow sides the rattling thumps resound; 



THE GLADIATORS OF 1103IE. 31 

A storm of strokes, well^meantj with fury flies, 
And errs about their temples, ears, and eyes; 
Nor always errs, for oft the gauntlet draws 
A sweeping stroke along the crackling jaws. 
Hoary with age, Entellus stands his ground, 
But with his warping body wards the wound. 
His hand and watchful eye keep even pace, 
While Dares traverses and shifts his jjlace, 
With hands on high, Entellus threats the foe; 
But Dares watched the motion from below, 

1 And slipped aside, and shunned the long- descending blow. 

I Entellus ivastes his forces on the ivind, 
And, thus deluded of the stroke designed, 
Headlong and heavy fell." 

There was much more than rude " give-and- 
take " in this fight. It was skilful boxing, even 
from a modern stand-point. 



VIII. 

THE GLADIATOKS OF ROME. 

Among the Romans, fond as they were of 
exhibitions of physical skill and strength, the pro- 
fession of athlete was entirely an exotic, and was, 
even under the empire, with difficulty transplanted 
from Greece. The svstem, and the athletes them- 
selves, were always purely Greek. 

The vicious luxury of imperial Rome had de- 
graded the gymnasium into the circus, and the 



32 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

athlete into the o-ladiator. The o'ladiatorial shows 
of the emperors were sign enough that a cruel 
and abominable power was preparing for its own 
destruction. 

The first o'ladiatorial shows were exhibited in 
the Forum Boarium, 2(34 B.C., by IMarcus and 
Decimus Brutus, at the funeral of their father. 
This was an evident survival of the still more 
ancient custom of sacrificing slaves and prisoners 
on the graves of illustrious chieftains. Only three 
pairs fought on this occasion ; but the taste grew 
like fire for these shows, and the number of com- 
batants increased rapidly. Titus Flaminius, in 
174 B.C., celebrated his father's obsequies by 
a three-da vs' fio-ht with seventv-four o:ladiators. 
Julius Ciiesar exhibited three hundred pairs in 
one show ; and during the later years of the 
republic the gladiators had grown so powerful, 
every nobleman employing a body-guard of them, 
that they kept the city in a state of constant peril 
and unrest. 

Under the empire, notwithstanding prohibitory 
laws, the passion for the gladiatorial shows 
steadily increased. One hundred pairs was the 
fashionable number for a private entertainment. 
It was a debauch of blood and cruelt3^ The vile 
Claudius would sit in his chair of state from 
morning till night, watching the bloody work, 



THE GLADIATORS OF ROME. 33 

and descendina' now and then to ur<re the hesi- 
tatino' fio'hters, who were at once monsters and 
victmis. Under Xei*o, senators, and even women 
of the noble families, appeared as combatants. 
Titus ordered a gladiatorial show that lasted a 
hundred days ; and Trajan, in one triumphal show, 
exhibited five thousand pairs of gladiators. 
Domitian, at the Saturnalia of 90 A.D., ordered 
a battle between dwarfs and women. It was over 1 
a hundred years later (200 A.D.) that a law w^as 
passed against female gladiators. 

Throughout the whole Roman empire had 
spread this horrible passion for human conflict to 
the death. ''From Britain to Syria/' says F. 
Storr, '^ there Avas not a town of any size that 
could not boast its arena and annual games." The 
following inscription from the pedestal of a statue 
shows the feeling of the provinces : 

'' In four da vs. at Minturuie, he showed eleven 
pairs of gladiators, who did not cease fighting till 
one half, all the most valiant men in Campania, 
had fallen. You remember it well, noble fellows- 
citizens." 

Gladiators were commonly drawn from prison- 
ers of war, slaves, or criminals condemned to 
death. The populace of Rome, drunken with the 
cruel sights, gloated on every fresh batch of tat- 
toed Britons who were marched in chains into the 



34 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

city. They rejoiced at the sight of Thracians, with 
their strano-e bucklers, Moors, and Xe^rroes. Even 
these 2:rew scarce in time ; and then Calio:ula 
and Xero, to meet the demand for victims, ordered 
all those auiltv of minor offences, such as fraud, 
peculation, etc., to take their chances in the arena. 
Men of birth and fortune, for pure love of fight- 
ins:, sometimes fouirht as a'hidiators ; and one 
emperor, Commodus, actually appeared in person 
in the arena. 

Professional aladiators were trained in schools, 
owned either by the State or private citizens. It 
was a legitimate enterprise to ow^n gladiators and 
hire them out. 

Sometimes a gladiator of great prow^ess became 
famous ; and then his fortune was made. The 
great poets praised him, and money and honors 
were showered on him ; but the horrible trade 
was detestable to brave men, and yet there w^ere 
thousands of brave men condemned to it for life. 
*' AVe cannot forget," says Gibbon, '' the desper- 
ate courage of about fourscore gladiators, reserved, 
with near six hundred others, for the inhuman 
sports of the amphitheatre. Disdaining to shed 
their blood for the amusement of the populace, 
they killed their keepers, broke from their place 
of confinement, and filled Rome with blood and 
confusion. After an obstinate resistance, they 



THE GLADIATOK8 OF KOME. 35 

were overpowered and cut in pieces by the regular 
forces ; but they obtained, at least, an honorable 
death and the satisfaction of a just revenge." 

" There are few finer characters in Koman 
history," says Storr, " than the Thracian Sparta- 
cus, who escaped from the gladiators' school of 
Lentulus, at Capua, and for three years defied the 
leo'ions of Eome." 

The gladiators fought with various weapons ; 
the Samnites, with a short sword, a plumed 
hehiiet, and a shield ; the Thracians, with a round 
buckler and a dao^o'er ; some others with a net and 
a trident, some with a lasso, and many with the 
deadly cestus. 

The public interest in the shows may be judged 
from the fact that in the Circus Maximus there 
were seats for three hundred and fifty thousand ; 
or, as Juvenal says, ''it held the whole of 
Rome." 

When the debauched people tired of merely 
human blood, the wilds of the w^orld were ran- 
sacked for Vv41d beasts to fio-ht with each other 
and with the gladiators. The generals and pro- 
consuls were ordered in far countries to purchase 
giraffes, tigers, lions, and crocodiles! Sulla, in a 
single show, had one hundred lions. Pompey had 
six hundred lions, besides elephants, which fought 
Gaetulian hunters. When the Colosseum was 
opened nine thousand beasts were killed ! 



30 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPORT. 

The cestus of the Roman gladiators was even 
more terrible than that of the Greeks. In Greece 
the end desired was skill and courage and strength ; 
in Rome the desire was for death. The death of 
an antagonist, unless l)y accident, was severely 
punished in Greece ; hut in Rome the sooner the 
irladiator killed his man the better. 

All the great writers and speakers of Rome 
praised and approved the gladiatorial shows, in- 
cludino' Cicero, Pliny, and even the good Marcus 
Aurelius. The first word against the shows was 
spoken l)y the Christian fathers, Tertullian, Lac- 
tantius, Cyprian, and Augustine. 

The first Christian emperor of Rome abolished 
the games by an edict, in 325 A. D. ; but they 
continued down to the time of St. Augustine. 
To a Christian martyr, Telemachus, belongs the 
honor of their final abolition. In 404, tliere 
came from the East on this sacred mission a monk 
named Telemachus. When the terrible fight was 
most intense, he rushed into the arena, and en- 
deavored to separate the combatants. He was 
instantly killed, by order of the praetor; but the 
Emperor Honorius, on hearing the report, abol- 
ished the o'ames, which were never afterwards 
revived. 



FEUDALISM SUPPRESSED POPULAR ATHLETICS. 37 



IX. 



FEUDALISM SUPPRESSED POPULAR ATHLETIC 
EXERCISES. 

With the advent of chivahy, the art of boxing 
waned. The evolution of feudal aristocracy, with 
other and widely different exercises, pastimes and 
weapons from those of the common people, made 
boxino; unfashionable. 

With the advance of feudalism came the growth 
of iron armor, until, at last, a fighting-man resem- 
bled an armadillo. He was iron-clad from top 
to toe. His weapons had changed accordingly. 
The short sword of the Greek and Roman sol- 
dier, good for a stout hand-to-hand fight, was 
replaced by a long and heavy blade and a ponder- 
ous iron-spiked mace. 

Boxing in those days came to be regarded as 
mere child's play, or as the rude pastime of the 
vulgar. 

The baron was a mounted man, who jousted 
with a ten-foot lance, and fought dismounted with 
an axe, or a sword five or six feet long, double- 
hilted, weighing from eight to twelve pounds. 

The student of sociology will find in the his- 



38 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

toiy of the sword alone a key to the political and 
social classifications of Europe, and, probably, 
of Asia also, could we trace the evolution of its 
military arms and methods. 

In all countries and times where the common 
man was ready and able to fight, singly and com- 
bined, freedom was at its hi'ohest. The ability of 
the common man to assert himself is everywhere 
and always the measure of popular liberty. 

The a'rowtli of armaments and o'overnments 
everywhere corresponds with the decrease of per- 
sonal and popular freedom. This may be fol- 
lowed from the fist, staff', or knife of the peasant 
or mechanic, to the sword of the *' gentleman," the 
lance, horse, and armor of the lord, the multiplied 
muskets of the king, and the Krupp guns and 
iron-clads of the emperor. 

The knowing: how to fiaht makes common men 
self-reliant and independent. A people are pre- 
paring for their own subjection to a class, or 
a tyranny, Avhere a oeneration is allowed to ^tow 
up without physical training and emulation. 

It has always been the aim of royalty and aris- 
tocracy to lower the individual liberty and inde- 
pendence of the common people. 

A baron and a minute-man could not breathe 
the same air. 

Every boy in a free country ought to l)e in- 



FEUDALISM SUPPRESSED POPULAR ATHLETICS. 39 

structed in boxing, wrestling and the use of 
weapons. Every young man ought to be drilled. 
Every householder ought, at least, to have a right 
to own a rifle, and should know how to make 
cartrido'es. Then the moral forces will cement 
the popular self-respect and independence into a 
solid wall of civilization. 

Nothing could better illustrate the helplessness 
of a people taken by surprise by a small, well- 
organized, and usurping class, than the invasion 
and conquest of England by the Normans. These 
foreign land robbers seized the surface of the 
country, which they hold to this day. Thej^ took 
possession of fields and farmers together, built 
their frowming towers on the hills and passes, 
organized and exercised their own forces, and set 
about a complete and permanent disorganization 
and disarmament of the Eno:lish masses. 

Their first step in this direction was the aboli- 
tion of warlike exercises, games, and customs. 
The basis of Eno'lish libertv was the ancient sys- 
tem of ivapental:e^ which was equivalent to the 
town meeting of New England. (AVere this the 
place to consider it, the similarity of these two 
truly English systems of home rule might be 
interestingly treated ) Under the system of 
\iKi][)entcike ^ every community in Saxon England 
selected its own local aovernment, and knew^ no 



40 ETHICS OF BOXING AXD MANLY SPORT. 

other rulino* but that of the kino's iudaes. The 
political unit was a family, not a person. Ten 
families were called a tythino-, thirty a trything, 
one hundred a township called In' that name. 
These old Saxon divisions still exist in the " rid- 
ino's" (trvthino's) and ''hundreds'' of the northern 
English counties. 

The local authority was settled yearlv, each 
family of the hundred sending its head to a meet- 
inof, where one was selected as the leader or 
justice of the community. When this selection 
was made, the selectman lowered his spear, and 
all the others came forward and touched it with 
their own. 

This was the icapentake, or weapon-touch ; and 
I there was no higher authority than this in Saxon 
England, except the king. 

The system of iixipentcike was abolished in the 
following manner : the Conqueror William divided 
England into sixty thousand shares, or shires^ to 
each of which was appointed a Xorman knight as 
owner and lord. This was the formal introduc- 
tion into England of the feudal system, in 108G, 
by the Great Council of the realm, assembled at 
Sarum. 

As soon as the Xorman knia'hts took their shires 
these became the political units instead of the 
hundreds, and to each of these they appointed a 



FEUDALISM SUPPRESSED POPULAPt ATHLETICS. 41 

king's officer to tiike the place of the selectman 
of the irapentalxe. The king^s officer was called 
a sherift' (from the words shire and reeve, or 
keeper). 

The leaderless English people were without 
organization or national purpose. They had to 
submit and see their ancient and beloved customs 
and lil^erties trodden under foot. 

Then their new masters, the knights, set about 
quietly disarming the people. They also discoun- 
tenanced all popular military customs, and even 
the usual athletic exercises and o-ames. 

Within a single generation the people had ren- 
dered up their arms and local rights to the 
knights, who were bound only to help the king 
in his wars. 

Before the conquest, every Englishman was a 
spearman or bowman, and quarter-staff and other 
lusty exercises w rre the common pastime of the 
people. That was the time when England was 
called, and deservedlv, '' Merrie Enoland." 

Addison, writing about popular exercises 
{'' Spectator," Xo. 161), alludes to ^'an old stat- 
ute which o))liged every man in England, having 
such an estate, to keep and exercise the longbow ;" 
by which means, he says, ''our ancestors excelled 
all other nations in the use of that weapon, and 
we had all the real advantages without the incon- 
venience of a stcinding army." 



42 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Under the Norman landlords the sports and 
exercises of the common Englishman were de- 
graded into rudeness, until ''Hodge," the name 
his insolent master gave him and still gives him, 
knew nought of athletic skill except a crude form 
of wrestling with body-holds. The bow, the pike, 
or spear, and even the quarter-staff, were taken 
from him, and the skilful use of these weapons was 
forgotten in the land. 

The knight wanted no fighting men except 
those whom he enlisted and trained for his own 
or the king's service. The others had better be 
unskilled, unlearned, undisciplined and uncouth 
breeders and producers of the necessary wealth 
from the soil, menials and payers of land-rent^ 

This degradation of manly and military exer- 
cises continued in England for six centuries. It 
began to change only in the early part of the last 
century. 

In Ireland it continues still. ''There are no 
boxers in Ireland," said a travelled athlete to me 
the other day. No ; the landlord government has 
been able to continue the Irish popular disorgani- 
zation. Foot-ball, hurling, wrestling, and boxing 
were frozen out. When Donnelly defeated tlie 
English champions in the early part of this cen- 
tury, it was considered a dangerous example and 
precedent for Irishmen ; and from that time the 



THE FIRST MODERN CHAMPION BOXER. 43 

people have been legislated, educated, and gov- 
erned into io^norance of all means of attack and 
defence, and of evervthino; but work in the fields. 

But within a few years the Irish people have 
begun resolutely to play the old heroic games of 
the Gael once more, as their English brothers 
had long gone back to the manly exercises of the 
Saxon. 

In the first quarter of the last century, the arts 
of boxing, sword-play, and quarter-staff were be- 
ginning to attract public attention in Great Bri- 
tain and Ireland. But these exercises were in an 
extremely rude condition. There was, especially 
for boxing, no unity of knowledge, no well- 
known teachers, no established rules. The idea 
of a national championship was not yet born. 



X. 

THE FIRST 3IODERX CHAMPION BOXER. 

In 1719 appears the first English pugilist who 
can be considered as a national champion. His 
name was James Figg. He had an ''academy" 
for manly exercises in Tottenham Court Road, 
London. 

Like all the boxing masters of that time, and 



44 ETHICS OF BOXING AXD MAXLY SPORT. 

for a long time after, Figg was also a professional 
swordsman and quarter-staif player. His card 
read as follows : 



JAMES FIGG, 

Master of ye Xoble Science of Defence on 
ye right hand in Oxford road near Adam & 
Eve court, teaches gentlemen ye use of ye 
small backsword and quarterstaff, at home 
and abroad. 



But in Figg's day (1719-34) boxing had evi- 
dently not been reduced to any intelligent rules, 
thouirh his cards professed to teach '' defence 
scientifically.'' Figg himself was so famous for 
'^ stops and parries/' that he is mentioned in the 
''Tatler," '' Guardian '' and '^ Craftsman," the 
foremost literary papers of the time. He is de- 
scribed by Capt. Godfrey, a famous patron of the 
athletes of his day, as ''a matchless master." 
"There was a majesty shone in his counte- 
nance," says Godfrey, " and blazed in all his ac- 
tions bevond all I ever saw. His rio-ht leg bold 
and firm, and his left, ichich could hardhj ever 
he disturbed, gave him surprising advantage, and 
struck his adversary with despair and panic." 
The "backsword" of Fio'ir's time still remains 



THE FIRST MODERN CHAMPION BOXER. 



45 



a fovorite exercise in Enaland. It is a rude 
sword-exercise, all cuts and parries, as if the 
sword had no point. 

One of the mysteries of sword-knowledsfe is 
the ]eno;th of time which some nations took to 
learn that the eftective part of the weapon was 




SET-TO. 



the point and not the edge. The point of a 
sword, durino^ an eno:ao'ement, is never more than 
two feet from an opponent's body, while the edge 
for a cuttino:-blow is from four to seven feet (in 
sweeping cuts, for instance). 



46 ETHICS OF B(3X1XG AND MANLY SPOUT. 

Besides the advantage in space and time, the 
wound of the point is apt to pierce the vitals, 
while the wound of the ed2:e is a mere surface 
cut or bruise. 

And yet, how few nations have straightened 
their sabres and sharpened their points ! 

The absurd old ''backsword" play, with a 
" hano-ino; o:uard," is the onlv exercise safe for 
the vile, curved sabres that even American cav- 
alry are equipped with to-day. 

But in Fia'2''s time, the professional fio'htino- 
man was really a master-of-weapons. Here, for 
instance, is a specimen of the usual method of 
advertising: a coming: fia'ht : — 

" At the Bear Garden in Hockley on the Hole. 
"A trial of skill to be performed between two profound 
Masters of the Xobie Science of Defence, on Wednesday next, 
being this 18th of the instant July, 1T09, at two of the clock 
precisely. 

' ' I, George Gray, born in the city of Xorwich, who has 
fought in many parts of the West Indies, and was never yet 
worsted, and now lately come to London, do invite James 
Harris to meet and exercise at these following weapons, viz. : — 
Back Sword, f Single Falchon 

Sword & Dagger, \ and 

Sword & Buckler, 1 Case of Falchons. 
"I, James Harris, Master of the ^N'oble Science of Defence, 
who formerly rid in the Horse-guards, and hath fought a 
hundred and ten prizes, and never left a stage to any man; will 
not fail (God willing) to meet this brave and bold Smiter at 
the time and place appointed, desiring sharp swords and no 
favor. YivAT Regi^^a." 



THE FIRST MODERN CHxVMPION BOXER. 47 

Other challenges, with the above weapons, add 
the quarter-staff. 

rio:^^ was the first master to include boxins: in 
his challenges, of which the following is a speci- 
men : — 



G. 2^S^^mMkS K 




" At Mr. Figg's New Amphitheatre, Joyning to his House, the 
sign of the City of Oxford, in Oxford Road, Marybone Fields, 
on Wednesday next, being the eighth of June, 1720, will be 
perform' d a tryal of skill by the following Masters. 

''Whereas, I, Edward Sutton, Pipemaker from Gravesend, 
and Kentish Professor of the Xoble Science of Defence, hav- 
ing, under a sleeveless Pretence been deny'd a Combat by and 
with the Extoll'd Mr. Figg, which I take to be occasioned 
through fear of his having that Glory eclipsed by me, where- 
with the eyes of all Spectators have been so much dazzled : 
Therefore, to make appear, that the great applause which has 
so much puff'd up this Hero has proceeded only from his 
Foyling such as who are not worthy the name of Swordsmen, 
as also that he may be without any farther excuse, I do hereby 
dare the said Mr. Figg to meet as above and dispute with 
me the Superiority of Judgement with the sword (which will 
best appear by Cuts etc.,) at all the Weapons he is or shall be 
then Capable of Performing on the Stage. 

"I, James Figg, Oxonian Professor of the said science, will 
not fail giving this daring Kentish Champion an Opportunity 
to make good his Allegations ; when, it is to be hoped, if he 
finds himself Foyl'd he will then change his Tone, and not 
think himself one of the Xumber who are not worthy the name 
of Swordsmen, as he is please to signifie by his Expression: 



48 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

However, as the most Significant Way of deciding these Con- 
troversies is by Action, I sliall defer what I have to Act until 
the Time above specified; when I sliall take care not to deviate 
from my usual Custom, in making all such Bravadoes sensible 
of their Error, as also in giving all Spectators intire satisfaction. 
"N.B. The doors will be open at Four, and the masters 
moimt between Six and Seven exactly. 

"YiVAT Rex." 

Thouo'li Fig^a' was, undoubtedly, a notable boxer, 
he was more a teacher than a fighter, and his en- 
o^ao'ements were more with swords than fists. 

The first real lighting champion of England, 
and certainly one of the most influential boxers 
of the last century, was John, or " Jack " Brough- 
ton, who is usually placed fifth or sixth on the 
list of champions. Broughton was a man of 
splendid physique, just one inch short of six feet, 
handsome of face and tremendously powerful. 
He was also gentle and good tempered, Ayhich 
made him numerous friends. 



XI. 

THE FIRST MODEKX RULES OF THE RIXG. 

Broughton was the first man who made regular 
rules for modern boxing. Up to his time (and 
long after it, indeed), a prize-fight was a rough- 
and-tumble scrimma2:e, in which the men miofht 



THE FIRST MODERN RULES OF THE RING. 49 

choke each other, wrestle, butt with the head, trip, 
and strike a man on his knees. 
Says the author of ' ' Fistiana " : 

'* The inlmman practices of uncivilized periods have sub- 
sisted to a disgraceful extent, and hence we have heard of 
gouging, purring, kicking a man with nailed shoes as he lies 
on the groiuid, striking him in vital parts below the waistband, 
seizing him when on his knees, and administering punishment 
till life be extinct, and a variety of other savage expedients by 
which revenge or passion has been gratified. In Lancashire, 
even to this day, when a man is got down he is kept do^^n and 
punished until incapable of motion — a mode of fighting which 
is permitted with impunity, unless, indeed, the death of the 
victim lead to the apprehension and trial of the survivor." 

' ' Broughton's Rules," as they were called for 
nearly a century, were " produced for the better 
regulation of the amphitheatre, approved by the 
gentlemen, and agreed to by the pugilists, Aug. 
1743." Theycontmued in force till ^'The New 
Rules of the Ring" were adopted in 1838. The 
following were " Broughton's Rules," and they 
tell their own story : 

"1. That a square yard be chalked in the middle of the stage, 
from which the men shall begin the fight; and every fresh set- 
to after a fall or being parted from the rails, each second is to 
bring his man to the side of the square and place him opposite 
the other. 

"2. After a fall, if the second does not bring his man to the 
side of the square within the space of half a minute, he shall 
be deemed a beaten man. 

"3. That no person shall be upon the stage except principals 
and seconds. 



50 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AXD MAXLY SPORT. 

"4. That no man be deemed beaten unless he fails commg up 
to the line in the limited time, or that his own second declares 
him beaten. 

''5. The winning man to have two-thirds of the money. 

''6. The principals to choose two umpires, who shall choose 
a referee. 

'' 7. That no boxer is to hit his adversary when he is down, 
or seize him by the ham, the breeches, or any part below the 
waist; a man on his knees to be reckoned down." 

The reo'ard that En2:lishmen had for boxino: in 
the last century may be judged from an article in 
the -'Connoisseur" (Aug. 22, 1754). 

" Every man," says the '' Connoisseur," " who 
has the honor of the British fist at heart must 
look with admiration on the bottom, the wind, 
the game of this invincible champion. Slack." 

This praise followed Slack's fight with Petit, a 
full report of which was published in the " Con- 
noisseur," which was one of the first literary 
publications of the period. It is interesting to 
observe what kind of a fight was this. I quote 
from the '' Connoisseur : " 

"Harlstox IX XoEFOLK, Julv 30, 1754. 

"Yesterday, in the afternoon. Slack and Petit met and 
fought. At the first set-to, Petit seized Slack by the throat 
and held him up against the rails and grained him so much as 
to make him extremely black. This continued for half a 
minute, before Slack could break Petit' s hold." 

The fight proceeded in this style. Petit seizing 
Slack " by the hams," and Slack flinging Petit oflf 



THE FIRST MODERX RULES OF THE RING. 51 

the stage, until Petit ran away in terror, and the 
fiofht was sfiven to Shick. 

Slack was in turn defeated by Stevens, the 
Nailer, who became champion m 1760. In the 
report of their fight the winning blow is thus 
described: ''Stevens, with his ris^ht hand beat 
Slack about the head, icltiJe at the same time trip- 
ping him off his centre icith his foot, '^ 

There is nothing particularly interesting in the 
records of British boxers till the close of the cen- 
tury. Daniel Mendoza, a Jew, and James Bel- 
cher, were the most noted names. Then came 
John Gully, champion from 1805 to 1808, a man 
who afterward became a member of the British 
Parliament ; Thomas Cribb, a really remarkable 
man and a great boxer ; Peter Corcoran, champion 
of Ireland and England, and Dan Donnelly, 
champion of Ireland and England. 

The condition of the ''science" at this time 
may be judged from the fact that there were few 
crystallized principles of attack or defence. Every 
man had his own way for doing everything. For 
instance, the guard of Mendoza was to hold his 
hands pretty close together, directly opposite his 
mouth, the back of the hand toward his opponent ; 
while another famous boxer named Johnson came 
on guard by planting his legs square, "with his 
arms held in almost a semi-circular direction be- 
fore his head." 



52 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 



XII. 

DONNELLY AND COOPER ON THE CURRAGH ,Or 

KILDARE. 

One of the most famous fights m the history of 
pugilism was that between the English and Irish 
champions, George Cooper and Dan Donnelly, 
which took place on the Curragh of Kildare, in 
the j^ear 1815. 

Dan Donnelly was one of the greatest boxers 
ever seen in the ring — a man who, in prowess 
and other characteristics, much reseml)led John 
L. Sullivan. He was born m Dublin in 1788. 
He was a carpenter by trade, and a man of ex- 
traordinary strength, good temper, generosity, 
and pluck. He was noted in Dublin for his skill 
in boxing ; but he was not a professional pugilist. 

In 1814, when Donnelly was twenty-six years 
old, one of the most famous boxers in England, 
named Thomas Hall, who had l)eaten Georire 
Cribl) and other renowned fighters, went to 
Ireland to make a tour of the countrv, aivino- 
exhibitions. His advent was proclahiied by an 
arrogantly worded challenge to ''all Ireland." 

He was checked by findins; that his challenofe 



DONNELLY AND COOPER ON THE CURRAGH. 53 

was at once publicly accepted in Dublin by Dan 
Donnelly, who was " backed " by as much money 
as was needed. 

This battle attracted international attention. 
In Ireland the excitement was very great. When 
the men met on the Curraa'h of Kildare, on the 
14th of September, 1814, there were over thirty 
thousand persons present. Both men were cheered 
when they entered the ring ; and the fi2:ht was fair 




SPAIIRIXG.— A ROUXI) BLOW MISSED. 

(Instantaneous Pliotograph.) 

until Hall, finding himself overmatched, fell several 
times \yithout a blow, and ultimateh^ raised a cry 
of " Foul," to cover his complete defeat. From 
the first round he had failed to make a sino-le 
point on Donnelly, or to effectually stop one of 
Donnelly's. 



54 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Then George Cooper, the best man in England, 
was sent from London a^rainst the Irish cham- 
pi on. 

Cooper had defeated the leadmg boxers of 
England, including Carter and Thomas Molineux, 
the negro heavy-weight, and great hopes were 
founded on his terrible hitting powers. 

The national champions met on the Curragh of 
Kildare, on the same spot that had witnessed 
Donnelly's victory over Hall. The place was 
called then, and will probably be called forever 
" Donnelly's Hollow." It is at the Newbridge 
end of the plateau on which the military hats are 
erected. 

A Boston traveller visited the Curraofh a few 
months ago, and was taken by a proud native to 
the scene of the famous battle. " The footsteps 
of the champions," said this gentleman, the other 
day, ''are still plainly visible. They are pre- 
served in this way : every visitor, especially 
those who love the ' noble art,' puts his feet in 
the ancient marks, which are thus preserved and 
deepened in the soft green sod." The positions 
of the men, as they began the fight, are pointed 
out. ''And over there," said the guide, "just out- 
side the ring stood Miss Kelly, who wagered 
thousands of pounds on Dan Donnelly." 

The battle took place on December 13, 1815, 



DONNELLY AND COOPER ON THE CURRAGH. 55 



in the forenoon. In Ireland the excitement over 
the fight was intense, and to this day the event 
is a topic of common conversation. On the 
morning of the fight, the roads around the Cur- 
ragh of Kildare were choked up with carriages 
and wagons of all kinds, from the four-in-hand 
teams of the nobility to the donkey-carts of peas- 
ants all the way from Cork or Connaught. There 
was a vast multitude to see the fight, and the 
profoundest order and good temper prevailed. 




C03IING ! 

(Instantaneous Photograph.) 



'* Donnelly's Hollow " is probably one of the 
most perfect natural amphitheatres in the world. 
Here, on the sloping hill-sides, could stand or sit 
a hundred thousand men to behold a dramatic 



56 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

scene; and here, on that day, was assembled a 
orreater crowd than had ever witnessed a boxino; 
contest since the close of the Olympic games. 
An English correspondent of the press described 
Donnelly in these words : 

'' Donnelly at length stripped, amid thunders of applause. 
The Yenus de Medicis never underwent a more minute scrutiny 
by the critical eye of a connoisseur than did the champion of 
Ireland. There is nothing loose or puify about him. He is 
strong and bony to all intents and purjDoses. He is all muscle. 
His arms are long and slingy, his shoulders uncommonly fine, 
particularly when in action, and prominently indicating their 
punishing quality. His head is a fighting one, his neck athletic 
and bold ; in height nearly six feet, in weight about thirteen 
stone, and his tout ensemble that of a boxer with first-rate 
qualifications. Thus much for his person ; now for his quality. 
His wind appears to be undebauched ; his style is resolute, firm, 
and not to be denied. Getting away he either disdains or does 
not acknowledge in his system of tactics. He makes tremend- 
ous use of his right hand.^'' 

After a storm-like cheer, the fio;ht beo:an amid 
deep silence. From the first blow, Donnelly had 
the advantage. He gained the usual points — 
first blood and first knock-down. Cooper made 
a brave and desperate fight, and in the fifth round 
lie knocked Donnelly off* his feet. In the seventh 
round Cooper was actually flung into the air by a 
cross-buttock, and in the eighth was dashed under 
the ropes by a tremendous left-hander. 

For the next three rounds the result was simi- 
lar, the eleventh and last round closinoj with a 



DONNELLY AND COOPER ON THE CURRAGH. 57 



fearful right-hand blow on Cooper's mouth, which 
knocked him senseless. 

The battle was awarded to Donnelly, amid the 




CROSS-BUTTOCK. 



cheers of l)oth Irish and English spectators. 
Donnelly then went to Eno'land and challeno-ed 
all comers. 



58 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

He attracted almost as much attention as Eno;- 
lislimen have recently given to Sullivan. Tom 
Cribb undoubtedly had been the leading boxer in 
his time ; but he had retired from the ring several 
years before Donnelly's visit to England. 

Eno'land was in straits for a man able to meet 
Donnell3^ It was looked upon even by the gov- 
ernment as dangerous, politically, to allow the 
Irishman to again defeat a British champion. 

At leno:th a strong; and able boxer, Oliver, was 
found to take up Donnelly's challenge. When 
the match was made, the chances of the fight 
filled the Three Kinoxloms once more with matter 
for earnest discussion. It was said that one 
hundred thousand pounds (five hundred thousand 
dolhirs) were laid in bets on the battle. Every 
man in Ireland who had a pound to spare backed 
Dan Donnelly; and the ''nobility and gentry" 
stood open-handed behind Oliver. 

The national battle came off' on July 21, 1819, 
within thirty miles of London. ''Donnelly, on 
stripping," says the English report, " exhibited 
as fine a picture of the human frame as can well 
be imagined ; indeed, if a sculptor had wished a 
living model to display the action of the muscles, 
a finer subject than Donnelly could not have been 
found. Oliver was equally fine. . . . He dis- 



BONNELLr AND COOPER OX THE CURRAGH. 59 

played flesh as firm as a rock. . . . Oliver 
had never been in so good condition before." 

It ^vas a brave and desperate contest. As 
usual, Donnell}^ knocked his man down in the 
first round; drew " first blood" in the second. 
In the seventh round, Oliver knocked Donnelly 
down, and this was almost his only successful 
point. Round after round ended in the same way 
— ''Oliver down." In the thirteenth round, 
when Oliver lay helpless on the ropes, Donnelly 
threw up his hands, so as not to be tempted to 
strike him, and for this he received a great cheer. 
" Very handsome ! " " Bravo, Donnelly ! " In 
the first hour there were thirty rounds fought, for 
the last four of which Oliver was oainino- strens^th ; 
but in the opening of the second hour Donnelly 
had got his " second wind," and " his eye began 
to blaze," though, says the English report, ''he 
was as cool as a cucumber." The next three 
rounds were Donnelly's, and then the Englishmen 
stopped betting and cheering. But they showed 
fair play throughout the fight ; he is a poor kind 
of an Englishman who does not love fair play in a 
boxino; match. Several times when " foul " was 
cried against Donnelly, and when, indeed, it 
might have been allowed by an umpire bent on 
ending the fight on a technicality, both umpire 
and crowd shouted: "It is all ri^rht. Go on 



60 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MAXLY SPORT . 

Donnelly !" In the thirty-fourth round, Donnelly 
cross-countered Oliver with terrific force, striking 
him on the lower jaw ; then while he was dazed 
Donnelly whirled him over the ring with a cross- 
buttock ; and Oliver's seconds carried him oft' 
insensible. The fight w^as given to Donnelly, 
who was scarcely marked, and who immediately 
dressed himself and went off to see another fio'ht. 

It was said, and believed by many, that Dan 
Donnelly, shortly after this fight, was knighted 
by the rollicking Prince of Wales. At any rate, 
ever afterward he was called " Sir Dan." He 
died in 1820, from taking a drink of cold water 
after a hard sparring bout. He was only thirty- 
two vears of ao'e. 

The last century saw^ pugilism raised in Eng- 
land and Ireland from barbarous rudeness to a 
hiah de«:ree of skill. I have l)efore me the 
''Manual of Self-Defence," as taught by Daniel 
Mendoza, who was champion of England in 1784. 

Mendoza was a renowned boxer, for skill, and 
it is interesting to study the contents of his 
manual. 

First, his guard consisted of holding both fists 
opposite the chin, close together, elbows down- 
ward, the legs slightly bent ; left leg foremost ; 
right foot toward the right, not directly behind ; 
weight of the body on iha foremost leg. 



DONNELLY AND COOPER ON THE CURRAGH. 61 

The blows taught by Mencloza were of three 
kinds — '^ round, straight, and chopping blows." 
The round blow he considered the unskilled ef- 
fort ; and, strange to say, he depended most on 
the silly " chopi>er," W'ith the back of the hand, 
from al)ove downward, a blow that no sane boxer 
would attempt to-day, except in fun. The straight 
blows were for the face and " wind." 

There is not a w^ord in the Manual about the 




CROSS-COU>'TERED. 

(Instantaneous Photograph.) 



cross -counter, the upper-cut, or the scientific 
round blow, — the three best blows of modern 
boxins:. 

In Mendoza's time, ''gouging," that is, scoop- 
ing out the eyes of an opponent, w^as constantly 
practised ; and, in other respects, the prize-ring 
was a place of cruel and barbarous practices. 



62 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Only six races or nations have produced natural 
boxers, — the Greeks, the Jews, tlie Negroes, the 
English, the Irish, and the Americans. 

Within a century, the Jewish race has sent out 
some famous boxers ; amons; them Daniel Men- 
doza, once champion of England ; and " Barney " 
Aaron, one of the best men of his time, — 1819 
-34. There have also been many leading Xegro 
boxers, the first of w^hom was Molyneaux, a con- 
temporary of Donnelly in the last century. 




UPPER CUT, AS SULLIVAN STRIKES IT. 

(Instantaneous Photograph.) 

But the greatest boxers since the classic days 
of Greece are the modern men of England and 
Ireland, and their descendants in America. And 
the latest are the sfreatest. 

No English champion, up to his time, ever 
equalled Tom Sayers, who was a mighty man in 
the ring from 1846 to 1863. There w^as a posi- 



DOXXELLY AND COOPER OX THE CURRAGH. 63 

tive value in Sayers' life to his countrymen, no 
matter what objection may be made to prize- 
fio:htino^. 

Sayers proved that a small man can easily de- 
feat a big and heavy one by skill, pluck, and 
endurance. He was five feet eight and a half 
inches in height, and a hundred and fifty pounds 




UPPER-CUT— old-fashio:ned. 



in weight; Imt the ^'Tipton Slasher," who was 
six feet one inch in heioht, and two hundred and 
five pounds in weight, and a good boxer, was a 
mere child in his hands. 

And when Sayers fought John C. Heenan for 



64 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPORT. 

the championship, there was a lesson of courage 
and manly pride to every boy and man in England 
in the fact that the stout heart upbore the smaller 
man ao'ainst the blows of a 2:iant for two hours 
and twenty minutes, though, for nearly two hours 
of the time, the little man had to fioht \Yith his 
right arm broken. 

No wonder Thackeray celebrated this fight in a 
poem, after the manner of ''Horatius," entitled, 
''A Lay of Ancient London, supposed to be re- 
counted to his great grand-children, April 7, a.d. 
1920, by an Ancient Gladiator." 

Thackeray carefully followed every feature of 
the fii>:ht, endins: thus : — 

" Two hours and more the fight had sped, 

Near unto ten it drew ; 
But still opposed, one-armed to blind, 

They stood, those dauntless two. 
Ah, me ! that I have lived to hear 

Such men as ruffians scorned ; 
Such deeds of valor "brutal'' called, 

Canted, preached down, and mourned. 
Ah ! that these old eyes ne' er again 

A gallant mill shall see! 
No more behold the ropes and stakes, 

With colors flying free ! 



And now my fists are feeble, 
And my blood is thin and cold ; 

But 'tis better than Old Tom to me 
To recall those days of old, 



A LESSON EVEX IX A FIGHT. 65 

And may you, my great-grandchildren, 

That gather round my knee, 
Xe'er see worse men nor iller times 

Tlian I and mine might be, 
Tliough England then had prize-fighters, — 

Even reprobates like me." 



XIII. 

A LESSOX EVEX IX A FIGHT 

Thex again, there was an object-lesson for 
England, outweighing even the brutality of a 
bare-handed fight, in the fortitude and reserved 
power of Tom King when he defeated Mace for 
the English championship m 1862. 

Mace, a gypsy by race, was a middle-sized 
man, one hundred and fifty-lour pounds weight; 
but he was the most famous boxer in the Avorld, 
and he deserved his fame. Xo man ever used 
both hands more evenly, or more efiectively, in 
straii>:ht bodv-blows, — the best blows for a small 
man to use on a bio- one, if he know how to 
escape a counter on the head. King was six feet 
two and one quarter inches in height, and trained 
down to one hundred and eighty pounds Aveight. 
But Mace had won his fame with victories over 
giants. He had defeated Kino' himself in the 



66 



ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 



early part of the same year, after a tremendous 
battle of forty-three rounds. He had beaten in 
five rounds, without receiving a blow, the gigan- 
tic Lancashire wrestler and boxer. Hurst, known 
as ''the Staleybridge Infant." So when Mace 




CLINCH. 



and King met in the winter of 1862, for a second 
fight for the championship, the betting was seven 
to four on Mace. 

And the course of the fight justified the odds 
for a long time. With extreme caution both men 
fought ; but, from the moment " time " was called, 
the champion Mace had the best of it. For ten 
rounds this was obviously so ; for fifteen and no 



A LESSOX EYEX IX A FIGHT. 



67 



change ; at the nineteenth King's friends knew he 
was beaten. He w\as fearfully punished about the 




GOOD POSITIO^s^ OF GUAKD. 

head ; his face was so swelled he could not see. 
He had to grope for his man. But he came up 



68 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

doiro;edly to receive the smashins: fist of the chain- 
pion. Xo one would take the freely offered odds 
of thirty to five against King ; ten to one Avas 
called and no takers. Then the crowd shouted to 
Mace to " finish him ! " And jNIace, smilingly and 
confidently, prepared. The blind man came stag- 
o^erino; toward him with the same awful courao'e 
and determination which had upheld him so long ; 
and Mace threw out his left preparatory to giving 
him the coiij) de grace with his right. But at that 
moment King stiffened like a man of cast-steel. 
His time had come. He o-ot within distance, and 
his riii'ht hand shot out like a flash of lio:htnino:, 
cross-countering Mace with appalling directness 
and force. 

It was the blow he had waited for and sparred 
for under all the terrible punishment. It was 
worth all the blows of the fiaht massed into one. 
Mace fell as if he had*been struck with a mallet, 
bleeding from mouth, eyes, and nose. He lay 
like a log for some seconds. " The champion is 
beaten ! " was the astonished ciy. But no, he 
struggled up again, reeled toward King, and 
was easily struck again to the earth. Once more 
the shattered champion staggered toward the 
blind conqueror, who, in pity, Avould not strike 
him, but gently pushed him into his corner, and 
the fi£>:lit was won. 



A LESSON EVEN IN A FIGHT. 69 

Was there no value in this lesson for Eno:lish- 
men ? 

They learned here that beating and bruising 
and even blinding a man, do not defeat him, if 
his heart be true and strona'. 

Under everv contest, whether of men or 2:ame 
animals, this is the fascinating secret, this is the 
line to look for, — this unbroken golden thread of 
pluck, of manly fortitude, of secret, heart-whis- 
pering confidence. 

We must regret and deplore the bruises and 
the scars and the I)lood ; but they are the price 
of a precious and beautiful thing, — the sight of 
manly qualities under the severest strain. 

Where else in one compressed hour can be 
witnessed the supreme test and tension of such 
precious living qualities as courage, temper, en- 
durance, bodily strength, clear-mindedness in 
excited action, and, above all, that heroic spirit 
that puts aside the cloak of defeat though it fall 
anew a hundred and a thousand times, and in the 
end reaches out and grasps the silvered mantle of 
success ? 

This is not meant to encourage prize-fighting. 
Detestable and abhorrent is a brutal bare-handed 
fight, for the l)rutality is as unnecessary as it is 
repulsive ; but you cannot have a prevalent manly 
exercise interesting to the majority of healthy 



70 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

men, without having professional boxers ; and it 
may be said that the professional boxer who 
fio'hts an honest fioht, with hio'h skill and couraw, 
and without the savagery of bare hands or cestus^ 
is not, thereby, a moral monster and an outrageous 
example. 

Shaw, the British Life-Guardsman, who slew ten 
French cuirassiers at AVaterloo, was a professional 
boxer; and, undoubtedh-, the training of stout 
heart, puissant arm, and confident eye, that en- 
abled him to do and die like a hero and a patriot, 
was due more to his pugilistic than his military 
profession. How many British hearts have 
remembered Shaw^ since then in a hand-to-hand 
fiofht, and have been nerved to renewed enerofy 
by the thought? 

''Among the confusion presented by the fiercest 
and closest cavalry fight which had ever been 
seen," says Sir Walter Scott, writing of Waterloo, 
''many individuals distinguished themselves by 
feats of personal strength and valor. Among 
these should not be forgotten Shaw, a corporal of 
the Life Guards, icell hnown as a pugilistic cham- 
pion, and equally formidable as a swordsman. 
He is supposed to have slain, or disabled, ten 
Frenchmen with his own hand before he was 
killed by a musket or pistol shot." 

Poor Shaw ! AVhen he died at Waterloo, he 



A LESSON EVE:Nr IN A FIGHT. 71 

had a challena'e standinof in Enoland to fiaiit any 
man in the Avorld ^vith his hands. 

AVhat was the lesson taught liy that heroic 
Russian sailor, who, commanding only a poor 
little merchant steamer, captured a colossal 
Turkish iron-clad after a desperate fight on the 
Black Sea, in 1877 ? 

This was one of the most glorious feats of war 
ever recorded ; and it illustrated the same uncon- 
querable and hopeful spirit that is often seen even 
in prize-fights. The story, in this relation, is worth 
telling. The Turkish iron-clad was of enor- 
mous power in guns, armor, and engines; she 
moved through the sea at the terrible speed of 
thjiijljnn^s^jyiJi^ The Russian merchantman, 

the Vesta, was a light iron steamer, carrying 
three six-inch mortars and one nine-pound rifle 
cannon. Her utmost speed was about twelve 
miles an hour. Yet these two ships, so unequal 
in everything else, were not only equalized, Imt 
the weak became the strong when the hearts of 
the crew were brought to the test of fire. Never 
was there a nobler showing of what fearful odds 
courao;eous men can face and overcome. 

At eight o'clock in the morning of a beautiful 
day in June, the Russian captain saw the immense 
ram sweeping down on him. He put his little 
steamer to her full speed ; but the ram closed on 



72 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

him with frightful rapidity. The officers of the 
small steamer were Russian artillerymen, for the 
ship had lately been pressed into the regular 
service. The sfuns were m char2:e of Lieut. -Col. 
Tchernoff, who pointed them himself. A rattling 
fire was kept up against the iron-clad ; but the 
Turk came on, as if determined to drive his spur 
into the side of the steamer. On seeing this, 
the captain of the Vesta veered off, upon which 
the Turk poured a hideous volley of shrapnel 
over his decks. One bomb set the steamer on 
fire near the powder magazine ; this was at once 
extino'uished. Another deluo:ed the deck with 
l)lood, lacerating the neck and shoulder of one of 
the two officers at the guns, and mortally Avound- 
ing the heroic Tchernoff*, who had time only to 
turn to the crew with these words : " Farewell ! 
fire from the right-hand stern gun ; it is pointed ! " 
and fell dead. There were torpedoes on board 
the steamer, and, at this time, Lieut. Michael 
Perelchine asked permission of the captain for 
himself and another lieutenant to launch the 
sloop, and attack the enemy with the mines. The 
captain was about to grant the request, when he 
saw that the sea was too boisterous for the success 
of so perilous an adventure. The brave lieutenant 
turned from him disappointed, and at that mo- 
ment w^as struck l)y a bomb, which tore away his 



A LESSOX EVEN IX A FIGHT. 



73 



leg to the hip. " In this condition," writes Capt. 
Baronoff, "he still endeavored to speak to me 
about the use to l)e made of the steam sloops." 
Still the tight went on. The lieutenant who was 
pointing the guns of the steamer received seven- 
teen wounds in a few minutes. Every man and 
boy in the ship stared grim death in the face, and 
never dreamt of giving in. But it nmst soon 




STRAIGHT C'OU^'TER. 

(Instantaneou.s Pliotograph.) 



end : the heavy projectiles of the iron-clad were 
literally knocking the steamer to pieces ; but just 
at this moment the artillery officer got a good 
sight, burst in the porthole of the enemy's largest 
gun, and lodged a bomb in her chimney. Another 



74 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

bom]) must have set fire to the iron-clad, for a 
dense smoke arose. " A terrible confusion en- 
sued on his deck ; he drew out of the fio:ht," 
turned tail, and steamed off at a tremendous rate. 
The Russian captain, with his little steamer shat- 
tered and torn, his officers dead or wounded, and 
his deck streaminir with the blood of his brave 
crew, tried to keep up chase ; but his rudder had 
been injured in the fight and soon became useless. 

The lesson of this battle is that there is hardly 
anv emer^i^encv in which a commander should 
yield without a fight. If this brave captain had 
stopped to calculate chances, he would have struck 
his flao' Avithout firing; a irun. His calcuhitions 
would have been a mistake, as such calculations 
almost alwavs are. He miaht count the «:uns of 
his enemy, and estimate the speed of the ram, 
and the number of the crew, and still leave out 
the principal consideration, — the pluck of the 
hearts. Guns will not fire straight without steady 
aim, and strong bulwarks may be a shield for 
cowardly hearts. 

Eeadiness to fight doubles the strength. All 
contests are worth w\atchin2: for the sio-ht of 
these golden lines. 



CHARACTERISTICS OF GREAT BOXERS. YO 

XIV. 

CHARACTERISTICS OF GREAT BOXERS. 

There never was, in the whole history of the 
art, a more remarkal)le or interesting boxer than 
Sullivan. Many people believe that his master- 
ful quality lies in his vast physical strength. 
Nothing could be farther from the truth. There 
are thousands of men in America physically much 
strono^er, — men who could lift a heavier weiirht, 
pull a heavier load, and keep up the strain longer 
than he. 

The superiority of Sullivan lies in his extraor- 
dinary nervous force, and his altogether incom- 
parable skill as a boxer. His recent failure to 
defeat a man w^ith bare hands, in three hours, 
whom he had formerly overcome with ease in 
fifteen minutes with large gloves, means only that 
the conditions were unfair. Sullivan does not 
pretend to be a runner ; and this fight was more 
a race than a l)out. 

The qualities of both Sullivan and Mitchell are 
thoroughly known. There is really no doubt in 
people's minds about their relative abilities. 
Mitchell is admittedly a most skilful boxer. But 
were the element of gambling ruled out, there 



70 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

never would have been a question raised as to the 
enormous superiority of Sullivan. 

There are many better l)oxers than Mitchell in 
America, if not in England; but there is not* one 
who dare challenge Sullivan. They know that 
this running fight in France has proved nothing 
against him. 

In what does his extraordinary skill consist? In 
hitting as straight and almost as rapidly as light ; 
in the variety and readiness of his blows ; in 
standinof firmlv on his feet and drivinsf his whole 
weiofht and nervous force at the end of his fist, — 
a very rare and a very high quality in a hoxer ; in 
movements as quick and purposeful as the leap of 
a lion. He can " duck" lower than any feather- 
weight boxer in America ; he can strike more 
heavy blows in ten seconds than any other man 
in a minute, and he watches his opponent with a 
self-possession and calculation that do not flurry 
with excitement, but only flame into a ravening 
intensity to beat him down, to spring on him from 
a new direction, and strike him a new blow every 
tenth of a second, to rush, hammer, contemn, 
overmaster, overwhelm, and appall him. 

Look at " The Boxer" as he leaps on the stage 
and stands gazing at liis opponent, waiting for 
the referee to call " time." That is the quivering 
moment seized by the great sculptor whose statue. 



Sullivan's superiority as a boxer. 77 

recently completed in Boston, is pictured in the 
frontispiece of this book. 

Look at the statue ; that is Sullivan, life, body, 
and spirit. See the tremendous chest, filled with 
capacious lungs and a mighty heart, capable of 
pumping blood everywhere at once. See the 
marvellous trunk and the herculean arms, not 
twisted and hardened into foolish lumps of dry 
muscle, but soft and lissome as the leg of a tiger. 
See the ponderous fist and the massive wrist ; and 
the legs and feet — ah! there you see the limbs 
of a perfect boxer — light as a dancer, firm as a 
tower. And then, look up to the buttressed, 
Samson neck, springing beautifully from the 
great shoulders; look at the head — large, round 
as a Greek's, broad-browed, wide-chinned, with 
a deep dimple, showing the good-nature, and a 
mouth and lips that ought be cut in granite, so 
full are they of doomful power and purpose. 

And what an attitude ! The advanced left foot 
hardly pressing the ground, the bones and mus- 
cles of the riii'ht le<i' strais^ht and strons: as a 
pillar. A position of repose, but the repose of 
the coiled steel spring. See the will and w^atch- 
fulness of the pushed lower lip and level eye, and 
the slio;ht forward inclination of the head. Above 
all, watch the arms, that appear to hang loosely 
at first sight. There is not a loose cord in them ; 



78 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPORT. 

they don't hang, they are carefully held a little 
out from the sides ; and mark the slio:ht, ))ut 
vastly significant, rounding of the nrist — out- 
ward, not inward — the legible and pregnant mark 
of ^' The Boxer." 

This expressive holding the clenched hand, with 
the wrist rounded outward, has not been produced 
in art before, certainly not by any modern artist. 
But it is the very sign and symbolization of the 
modern boxer. It is, in a special way, the im- 
print of Sullivan. It tells the genius of the 
sculptor and the instinct of the athlete. In that 
premonitory wrist and fist v»^e see the very natal 
spring of the round blow. He has but to throw 
up his elbow slightly, and hand, arm, shoulder, 
and right leg are ready, and the champion's round 
blow flies like a thunderbolt. 

There is no need to say that this is a wonderful 
statue — a work of art that will become famous 
everywhere, that will attract as much attention 
next year in the Paris Salon as this year when 
exhibited in Boston. It tells its own greatness 
to every beholder. Subject and artist came at 
the rio:ht moment ; and America is enriched with 
a work of art that would have won a crown in 
Periclesian Athens. 

Sullivan enters on a fight unlike all other men. 
From the first movement his action is ultimate. 



Sullivan's superiority as a boxer. 79 

Other boxers begin by sparring ; he begins by 
fio;htin2: — and he never ceases to fiaht. He is as 
distinct from other boxers as a bull dos: is from a 
spaniel. He is a fighting man. Every other 
American boxer, and from report, every English 
boxer, is of the sparring kind. Kilrain is a 
superb pugilist — strong, skilful, good-tempered, 
and a hard hitter. He is the safest boxer living, 
and next to Sullivan easily the best pugilist in 
the world. But Kilrain is not a naturalfio'hter — 
he is too gentle. He waits to see what his oppo- 
nent is going to do. It takes five or six rounds 
to get his heart at full beat and his nervous reser- 
voir opened. 

But from the first instant of the fight, Sullivan 
is as fierce, relentless, tireless as a cataract. The 
fight is wholly to go in his w^ay — not at all in 
the other man's. His opponent wants to spar ; 
he leaps on him with a straight blow. He w^ants 
to breathe ; he dashes him into the corner with a 
.drive in the stomach. He does not waste ten 
seconds of the three minutes of each round. 

And look at the odds he offers — and offers to 
all the world ! They are not ten to one, nor 
twenty to one, but nearer to one hundred to one. 
Observe, he will not only defeat all-comers, but 
he will defeat them in four rounds — in twelve 
minutes! And this is not all — he will defeat 
them with his hands muffled in laro;e o^loves. 



80 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Consider the odds here : he throws away for 
huBself all the chances of a lonir fiaht, and he 
offers to his opponents all the chances of endur- 
ing even his opposition for a short one. Mace 
defeated King only after forty-three rounds, and 
Brettle after forty rounds. Heenan fought Say- 
ers thirty-seven rounds, to what the Englishmen 
called a draw. Sayers beat Paddock in twenty- 
one rounds. He fought Aaron Jones sixty-two 
rounds to a draw, and only defeated him after 
eighty-five rounds more ; while the fight of 
Sayers with Poulson consumed three hours and 
ei^fht minutes, in which one hundred and nine 
rounds wei^e fought.* 

* Longest bare-knuckled battle on record — six hours, fifteen 
minutes, James Kelly and Jonathan Smith, near Melbourne, 
Australia, Xovember, 1855. 

Longest bare-knuckle battle in England — six hours, three 
minutes, Mike Madden and Bill Hayes, Edenbridge. July 17, 
1849. 

Longest bare-knuckle battle in America — four hours, 
twenty minutes, J. Fitzpatrick and James O'Xeil, Berwick, 
Maine, Dec. 4, 1860. 

Longest glove fight — five hours, three minutes, forty-five 
seconds ; seventy-six rounds, Wm. Sheriff and J. Welch, Phila- 
delphia, Penn., April 10. 1884. 

Largest stake fought for in America — $10,000, Tom Hyer 
and Yankee Sullivan, Rock Point, Md., Feb. 7, 1849. 

Largest stake fought for in England — £2,000, Tom King 
and John C. Ileenan, Wadhurst, England, Dec. 10, 1863. 

First ring fight in America — Jacob Hyer and Thomas 
Beasley, in 1816. 



Sullivan's superiority as a boxer. 81 

If Sayers could not knock out Poulson in one 
hundred and eight rounds, with bare hands, what 
eflect would he have had on him in four rounds 
with laro'e soft-oloyes ? 




CKOSS-COU>'TER. 



As Sayers, witli bare hands, was to Poulson 
(an inferior man) in one hundred and nine rounds, 
so is Sullivan, with large gloves, to the best man 
in the world in four rounds. That is the sum in 
proportion. 



82 ETHICS OF BOXIMi AM) MANLY SPOKT. 

To show the progress in boxing between 
Broughton's day and ours, the reader is referred 
to the Appendix for the best code of rules to 
o^overn o'love contests that has ever been drawn 
up. They are the product of a Boston man, Mr. 
David Bkmchard. 



XV. 

BOXING COMPARED WITH OTHER EXERCISES. 

Prize-Fighting is not the aim of boxing. This 
noble exercise ousfht not to be iudo:ed bv the 
dishonesty or the low lives of too many of its 
professional followers. Let it stand alone, an 
athletic practice, on the same footing as boating 
or foot-ball. 

Putting: prize-fio'htino^ alto2rether aside as one 
of the unavoidable evils attending on this manly 
exercise, the inestimable value of boxing as a 
training, discipline, and development of boys and 
young men remains. 

All other athletic exercises, with one exception, 
are limited or partial in their physical develop- 
ment. That exception is swimming. Swimming 
takes the whole muscular system into play, uni- 
formly and powerfully. Lungs, heart, trunk, and 



BOXING COMPARED WITH OTHER EXERCISES. 83 



liiiil)s, all but the eves, have to do their full share 
of the work. 

Boxins: leaves out nothino; ; it exercises the 
whole man at once and equally — the trunk, the 
limbs, the eyes — and the mind. 

Swimmino- is, more than anv other phvsical 
exercise, a reversal to the primitive. The 
swimmer has no thoughts — only perceptions. 
He sees, in a vague way, the trees on the shore, 
the clouds, the ripple on the wave within tbtoy 



.? 




DICKIXG" A LEAD WITH THE LEFT. 

(Instantaneous Photograph.) 



inches of his lips, and he feels the embracing 
water in a manner that diffuses thought or sen- 
sitiveness all over his body, taking it away from 
the brain. Xo swimmer thinks — he merely takes 
care. He is in a condiHon of animalism. The 



84 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

intellectuality of the swimmer is relaxed, or 
partly suspended. 

But the boxer, in action, has not a loose muscle 
or a sleepy brain cell. His mind is quicker and 
more watchful than a chess-player's. He has to 
gather his impulses and hurl them, straight and 
purposeful, with every moment and motion. It 
is not the big, evenly-disposed opposition of nature 
he has to overcome, like the swimmer or the 
runner, but the keen and precise cunning of an 
excited brain, that is watching him with eyes as 
bright as a hawk's. 

There is no emulation or controversy so hot, 
so vital, so deliciously interesting, as the boxer's. 
The ecstacy of the single-stick is rude and brief; 
the wrestler's tug is comparatively slow and labo- 
rious ; even the luno-e of the foil is cold, sli«:ht, and 
vaofue, beside the life-touchino- kiss of the hot 
glove on neck, arm, or shoulder. 

The nearer you come to nature, when you are 
not fighting nature, the deeper the enjoyment, 
whether of living, loving, exercising, playing, or 
fi<>;htin2f. 

The elements of character which boxins:, better 
than all other exercises, develops, are fairness ot 
personal judgment and an acceptance of give-and- 
take. 

The boxer must take as well as give. It is 



BOXING COMPARED WITH OTHER EXERjCISES. 85 

only the bully and the coward who want to give 
all the thiie, and escape faJcinj ; and if boxing 
were taught in every American school, as it ought 
to be, there would be fewer bullies and cowards 
sent out unpunished and uncorrected, 

A few years ago, in Xew" England, a young 
man who was fond of rowing or riding, or any 
other vigorous sport, was considered to be on the 
high road to ruin. It was not respectable even to 
whistle ; and the cheerful whistler is a lost artist 
in New England. 

This is changed completely. In the greatest 
school in America, Harvard, there is probably the 
most perfect gymnasium in the world ; and the 
annual games at all the universities and higher 
schools of America, where the mothers and sisters 
of the best-bred boys in the country are present 
in thousands, are not unw^orthy modern represen- 
tations of the national ofames of Greece. 

Cxvmnasiums are aTowino; common in New 
England in connection with schools — their proper 
relation. It is beo-innino; to be realized that, 
under our confined and artificial citv life, the 
bodies of 1)03's and girls need as much and as 
careful training and cultivation as their minds. 
''A sound mind in a sound body" promises to 
become an American, as it v\as a Koman, proverb. 
To cultivate the mind at the expense of the body 



86 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

is to put a premium on immorality, rascality, and 
craziness. 

There never was a race so fond of athletics as 
the American is groins: to be — as it is already — 
at least, not since the Olympiads. The best of 
the English field-sports are confined to the aris- 
tocracy. There never was a race with so many 
and so various athletes as the American. Our 
games are not " sacred"' like the Greeks', nor are 
they national, or periodical, or belonging to a class 
— except our fox-hunting in scarlet and top-boots. 
AYe do not concentrate our athletic eflforts into 
four days every four or five years like the Greeks. 
Our Olympiads begin every May and last till 
November, and take in every l)oy and man who 
has warm l)lood in his veins. 

The Greeks had runners, wrestlers, boxers, 
charioteers, quoit-throwers, bull-tamers ; the Ro- 
mans had boxers, w^restlers, and swordsmen. AYe 
have more than all these. Base-ball alone in 
America makes more athletes yearly than the 
whole curriculum of Elis. The youths who 
''break the records" for running, leaping, row- 
inir, and foot-ball in American colles^es would 
take all the laurel and parsley crowns at Isthmia 
and Corinth. For every Greek chariot driver we 
have a thousand American yachtsmen. Greece 
and Eome will be nowhere in athletics in compari- 



BOXIXG COMPARED WITH OTHER EXERCISES. 87 

son with Xew England alone, twenty-live years 
hence, if the wave of popular interest in field and 
water and gymnasium sports, which is now rapidly 
rising, is allowed to proceed unchecked. 

It is no longer regarded as deplorable for a 
youth to aspire to be an athlete. The whole 
country hangs in suspense over a college race or 
foot-ball game. A1)ove all, we are in a fair way 
to rescue boxing from the boxers, and to restore 
to its proper place in the training of youth the 
exercise that leads all others in fitting them to l)e 
fair-minded, confident, courageous, peaceful and 
patriotic citizens. 



88 ETHICS OF BOXI^G AND MANLY SrOiiT. 



APPENDIX. 



THE ILLUSTEATIONS. 

The illustrations used in this article are made from instan- 
taneous photographs of two famous boxers. This is the first 
time the instantaneous i)hotograph has been used to record the 
movements of boxers in excited action; and the result, it will 
be admitted, is interesting and satisfactory. 

Mr. John Donoghue, the sculptor of the great statue of 
"The Boxer,-' for which Sullivan stood as his model all 
through the past Summer, has kindly allowed me to use, for 
the first time, the beautiful jilate in the frontispiece. 

Among the illustrations are four or five from excellent draw- 
ings, made for " Outing," from two of the best boxers in 
America, which have been copied by the kind permission of 
the editor of "Outing." These plates are "A Good Position 
of Guard," " Set-To,"' "A Cross-Counter,"" An Old-Fash- 
ioned Upi^er-Cut," and "A Cross -Buttock," the latter a won- 
derfully good picture. 

The x)rocess of taking the instantaneous photographs of the 
boxers for this article was very interesting. The lessons the 
pictures give, even to professional boxers, will not be thrown 
away. For instance, take the illustration, " Cross-Countered," 
(page Gl), where the man leading has raised his right foot in the 
air: it is obvious that such a blow could have little strength, 
and that the cross -blow of his opponent, whose right tee is 
firmly grounded, must stagger him, at least. The careful boxer 
whose leg is raised would never believe that this was his 
position; but the camera cannot lie. 

And what a perfect illustration is the first plate, — " Ducking 
the Uound Blow," (page 10), which never could be secured except 
by the instantaneous process. Except in the sudden bend of an 



APPENDIX. 89 

excited moment, a man could not assume such a singular, and 
yet graceful and iDowerful position. A less cool or skilful boxer 
than this (he is the light-weight champion of England) would 
lose his power of recovery in making such an escape as this ; 
but observe, hands, feet, and body are so held that, as soon as 
the sweeping fist has passed overhead, he can straighten him- 
self where he stands, and get in a powerful right-hander. 

Another illustration of extraordinary vigor is "The IJpper- 
Cut, as Sullivan Strikes It" (page G2). Here the camera has 
captured an upper-cut at its very birth. There is no short- 
armed fibbing al)out this blow. It springs, not from the elbow, 
but from the feet; and, if it reaches its object in earnest, it is 
frequently the end of a fight. 



RULES OF THE EING. 

There have been, in England, three notable codes, or " Rules 
of the Ring," for the ordering of imgilistic contests. The first 
were known as '' Broughton's Rules " (they are given in full at 
page 4)). They governed all prize-fights in England for nearly 
a century, till the adoption of the code known commonly as 
" The London Prize -Ring Rules." 

The later and better English rules are those known as ' ' The 
Marquis of Queensberry Rules," Avhich provide for regular 
rounds of three minutes instead of the former system of ending 
a round when one of the contestants came to the ground. The 
" London Ring Rules " are still followed in England; but never, 
it may be depended on, when the contest is intended to be fair 
and above-board. They seem to have been framed to enable 
the worst man to win, by permitting all kinds of cowardly tricks 
and evasions. Whenever his manlier opponent is in danger of 
getting an advantage, the schemer can clinch, and immediately 
slip to the ground. 

By the ''Queensberry Rules," each round lasts three full 
minutes, with a minute between for rest. If a man is knocked 
down during the round, he is allowed ten seconds to get up, 
unassisted, and return to the contest. Should he be unable to 



90 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AXD MANLY SPORT. 

rise when "time" is called at the end of the ten seconds, he 
has lost the fight. 

But the best " rules of the ring " ever devised are those lately 
drawn up by ]Mr. David K. Blanchard, of Boston, called " The 
American Fair-Play Rules." So far as can be seen, they cover 
every point, and provide for a fair and manly i)ugilistic con- 
test, without brutality. Every future American boxing contest 
ought to be controlled by these "American Rules." 

All other rules have failed to stop the vile clinching which 
often makes a boxing contest a mere wrestling match, during 
which the referee has nothing to do but shout, " Break! " But 
here it is provided that the boxers themselves shall stop the 
clinching, not the referee. Rule 5 say3.' "If a contestant 
should resort to clinching, hi 3 opponent may continue hitting 
as long as he does not clhicli himself. " 

This settles the clincher, who stops his own fighting, but 
allows his opx)onent to go on in- fighting. If referees will 
observe this rule, and decline to cry "break" when the clinch 
is not mutual, there will soon be an end of clinchers and 
clinching. 

Mr. Blanchard deserves much credit for the careful attention 
he has bestowed on this excellent code of rules, which at once 
bars out cruelty, brutality, and cowardice (his ring is only 
twenty feet square; large enough for a fight, but not for a race- 
course), and ensures as fair a glove contest as possible. 



LOXDOX PRIZE-RIXG RULES, AS KEVISED BY THE BRITISH 
PUGILISTIC ASSOCIATION. 

It having been found that many of the Rules of the Ring 
are insufficient to provide for the various contingencies which 
continually arise in prize battles, an entire revision has been 
determined on, and a comniittee of gentlemen, members of the 
Pugilistic Association, undertook the task. AVhen the revision 
was complete, the laws were submitted to a general meeting of 
the members of the Prize Ring (being members of the Associa- 
tion), and unanimously agreed to: — 



APPENDIX. 91 

1. That the rhig shall be made on turf, and shall be four- 
and-twenty feet square, formed of eight stakes and ropes, the 
latter extending in double lines, the uppermost \me being four 
feet from the ground, and the lower two feet from the ground. 
That in the centre of the ring a mark be formed, to be termed 
"the scratch"; and that at two opposite corners, as may be 
selected, spaces be enclosed by other marks sufficiently large 
for the reception of the seconds and bottle-holders, to be en- 
titled "the corners." 

2. That each man shall be attended to the ring by a second 
and a bottle-holder, the former provided with a sponge, and the 
latter with a bottle of water. That the combatants, on shak- 
ing hands, shall retire until the seconds of each have tossed for 
choice of position, which adjusted, the winner shall choose his 
corner according to the state of the wind or sun, and conduct 
his man thereto ; the loser taking the opposite corner. 

3. That each man shall be provided with a handkerchief 
of a color suitable to his ovv^n fancy, and that the seconds pro- 
ceed to entwine these handkerchiefs at the uioper end of one of 
the centre stakes. That these handkerchiefs shall be called 
the "colors "; and that the winner of the battle at its conclusion 
shall be entitled to their possession as the trophy of victory. 

4. That two umpires shall be chosen by the seconds or 
backers to watch the progress of the battle, and take exception 
to any breach of the rules hereafter stated. That a referee 
shall be chosen by the umpires, unless otherwise agreed on, to 
whom all disputes shall be referred ; and that the decision of 
this referee, whatever it may be, shall be final and strictly 
binding on all parties, whether as to the matter in dispute or 
the issue of the battle. That the umpires shall be provided 
with a watch for the purpose of calling time ; and that they 
mutually agree upon whom this duty shall devolve, the call of 
that umpire only to be attended to, and no other person what- 
ever to interfere in calling time. That the referee shall with- 
hold all opinion till appealed to by the umpires, and that the 
umpires strictly abide by his decision without dispute. 

5. That on the men being strip^Dcd, it shall be the duty of 



92 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AXD ]\IAXLY SPOP.T. 

the seconds to examine their drawers, and if any objection 
arise as to insertion of improper substances therein, they shall 
appeal to their umpires, who, with the concurrence of the 
referee, shall direct what alterations shall be made. 

0. That in future no spikes be used in fighting boots except 
those authorized by the Pugilistic Association, which shall not 
exceed three-eighths of an inch from the sole of tlie boot, and 
shall not be less than one-eighth of an inch broad at the point; 
and it shall be in the power of the referee to alter, or file in any 
way he pleases, spikes which shall not accord with the above 
dimensions, even to filing them away altogether. 

7. That both men being ready, each man shall be con- 
ducted to that side of the scratch next his corner previously 
chosen; and the seconds on the one side, and the men on the 
other, having shaken hands, the former shall immediately 
return to their corners, and there remain within the prescribed 
marks till the rgiuid be finished, on no pretence whatever ap- 
proaching their principals during the round, under a penalty of 
five shillings for each offence, at the oi^tion of the referee. The 
penalty, which will be strictly enforced, to go to the fimds of 
the Association. The principal to be responsible for every fine 
inflicted on his second. 

8. That at the conclusion of the round, when one or both 
of the men shall be down, the seconds and bottle-hoLlers shall 
step forward, and carry or conduct their principal to his corner, 
there affording him the necessary assistance, and that no per- 
son whatever be permitted to interfere in this duty. 

9. That on the expiration of thirty seconds, the umpire 
appointed shall cry ''Time,'' upon which each man shall rise 
from the knee of his bottle-holder, and walk to his own side 
of the scratch unaided; the seconds and bottle-holders remain- 
ing at their corner; and that either man failing so to be at the 
scratch within eight seconds, shall be deemed to have lost the 
battle. This rule to be strictly adhered to. 

10. That on no consideration whatever shall any person be 
permitted to enter the ring during the battle, nor till it shall 
have been concluded; and that in the event of such unfair 



APPENDIX. 93 

practice, or the ropes or stakes being disturbed or removed, it 
shall he in the poAver of the referee to award tlie victory to that 
man who, in his honest opinion, shall have the best of the 
contest. 

11. That the seconds and bottle-holders shall not interfere, 
advise, or direct the adversary of their principal, and shall 
refrain from all offensive and irritating expressions, in all 
respects conducting themselves with order and decorum, and 
confine themselves to the diligent and careful discharge of their 
duties to their principals. 

12. That in picking up their men, should the seconds or 
bottle-holders wilfully injure the antagonist of their principal, 
the latter shall be deemed to have forfeited tlie battle on the 
decision of the referee. 

13. That it shall be a fair "stand-up fight," and if either 
man shall wilfully throw himself down without receiving a 
blow, whether blows shall hcne prci:iously bejen exchanged or 
not, he shall be deemed to have lost the battle; but that this 
rule shall not apply to a man who in a close slips down from 
the grasp of his opponent to avoid punishment, or from obvious 
accident or weakness. 

14. That butting with the head shall be deemed foul, and the 
party resorting to this practice shall be deemed to have lost 
the battle. 

15. That a blow struck ^vhen a man is thrown or down, shall 
be deemed foid. That a man with one knee and one hand on 
the ground, or with both knees on the ground, shall be deemed 
down; and a blow given in either of those positions shah be 
considered foul, providing always that, when in such position, 
the man so down shall not himself strike or attempt to strike. 

16. That a blow struck below the waistband shall be deemed 
foul, and that in a close seizing an antagonist beloAV the waist, 
by the thigh, or otherwise, shall be deemed foul. 

17. That all attempts to inflict injury by gouging, or tearing 
the flesh with the fingers or nails, and biting, shall be deemed 
foul. 

18. That kicking or deliberately falling on an antagonist with 
the knees or otherwise when down, shall be deemed foul. 



94 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SFOKT. 

19. That all bets shall be paid as the battle -money, after a 
fight, is awarded. 

20. That no person, under any pretence whatever, shall be 
permitted to approach nearer the ring than ten feet, with the 
exception of the umpires and referee, and the persons appointed 
to take charge of the water or oth3r refreshment for the com- 
batants, who shall take their seats close to the corners selected 
by the seconds. 

21. Tliat due notice shall be given by the stakeholder of the 
day and place where the battle-money is to be given up, and 
that he be exonerated from all responsibility upon obeying the 
direction of the referee ; that all parties be strictly bound by 
these rules ; and that in future all articles of agreement for a 
contest be entered into with a strict and willing adherence to 
the letter and spirit of these rules. 

22. That in the event of magisterial or other interference, or 
in case of darkness coming on, the referee shall have the power 
to name the time and place for the next meeting, if possible on 
the same day, or as soon after as may be. 

23. That, should the fight not be decided on the day, all bets 
shall be drawn, unless the fight shall be resumed the same 
week, between Sunday and Smiday; in which case the bets 
shall stand and be decided by the event. The battle -money 
shall remain ir the hands of the stakeholder until fairly won or 
lost by a fight, unless a draw be mutually agreed upon. 

24. That any pugilist voluntarily quitting tlie ring previous 
to the deliberate judgment of the referee being obtained, shall 
be deemed to have lost the fight. 

25. That on an objection being made by the seconds or um- 
pire, the men shall retire to their corners, and there remain 
until the decision of the appointed authorities shall be obtained ; 
that if pronounced " foul," the battle shall be at an end; but if 
" fair," " time " shall be called by the party appointed, and the 
man absent from the scratch in eight seconds after shall be 
deemed to have lost the fight. The decision in all cases to be 
given promptly and irrevocably, for which purpose the umpires 
and the referee should be invariably close together. 



APPENDIX. 1)5 

26. That if in a rally at tlie ropes a man steps outside the 
ring to avoid his antagonist, or to escape punishment, he shall 
forfeit the battle. 

27. That the use of hard substances, such as stone, or stick, 
or of resin, in the hand during the battle shall be deemed foul, 
and that on the requisition of the seconds of either man, the 
accused shall open his hands for the examination of the referee. 

28. That hugging on the ropes shall be deemed foul. That a 
man held by the neck against the stakes, or upon or against 
the ropes, shall be considered down, and all interference with 
him in that position shall be foul. That if a man in any way 
makes use of the roj^es or stakes to aid him in squeezing his 
adversary, he shall be deemed the loser of the battle ; and that 
if a man in a close reaches the ground with his knees, his ad- 
versaiy shall immediately loose him or lose the battle. 

29. That all stage fights be as nearly as possible in conformity 
with the foregoing rules. 



MARQUIS OF QUEENSBEIMiV UVLES GOVEKXIXG CONTESTS 
FOK EXDLIJAXCE. 

1. To be a fair stand-up boxing match, in a twenty-foui* foot 
ring, or as near that size as practicable. 

2. Xo wrestling or hugging allowed. 

3. The rounds to be of three minutes' duration, and one 
minute time between rounds. 

4. If either man fall, through weakness or otherwise, he 
must get* up unassisted ; ten seconds to be allowed him to do 
so, the other man meanwhile to return to his corner, and when 
the fallen man is on his legs the round is to be resumed and 
continued until the three minutes have expired. If one man 
fails to come to the scratch in the ten seconds allowed, it shall 
be in the power of the referee to give his award in favor of the 
other man. 

5. A man hanging on the ropes in a helpless state, with 
his toes off the ground, shall be considered down. 



96 ETHICS OF BOXING AXD MAXLY SPOUT. 

0. Xo seconds or any other person to be allowed in the 
ring during the rounds. 

7. Should the contest be stopped by any unavoidable inter- 
ference, the referee to name time and place, as soon as possible, 
for finishing the contest ; so that the match must be won and 
lost, unless the backers of both men agree to draw the stakes. 

8. The gloves to be fair-sized boxing gloves of the best 
quality, and ncAV. 

9. Should a glove burst, or come off, it must be replaced to 
the referee's satisfaction. 

10. A man on one knee is considered down, and if struck 
is entitled to the stakes. 

11. Xo shoes or boots with sprigs allowed. 

12. The contest in all other respects to be governed by the 
the revised rules of the London Prize-rinii. 



AMEEICAX FAIR-PLAY III LES TO GO VEEN GLOVE CONTESTS. 

1. An honest and competent referee must be chosen, who 
should be familiar with the rules. His orders must be promptly 
obeyed, and his decisions in all cases shall be final. 

2. A responsible time-keeper must be appointed, who shall 
take his position near the ropes, and should be provided 
with a proper time watch. The referee, also, may have the 
privilege of keeping time, for his own satisfaction, particularly 
in reference to the twelve seconds after a fall. 

3. All contests should take place in a roped square en- 
closure, twenty foot square, or as near that as possible, with 
eight posts, which should be padded on the inside. Three 
ropes, of one inch diameter, should be used, the top one to be 
four feet from the floor, or ground, and the others at equal 
distance below it, or sixteen inches apart. There should be a 
circle, three feet in diameter, drawn in the middle of the en- 
closure, to be known as the centre, where contestants shall 
meet for the beginning of each round. 

4. Each principal may have U\o attendants, only one of 
whom shall be allowed within the enclosure. Wliile the con- 



APPENDIX. 1)7 

test is in progress tlie attendants must take positions outside 
the ring, and neither advise nor speak to either of the principals, 
except wliile they are resting. A violation of this rule may be 
punished by the referee excluding the offender from serving as 
an attendant. Either attendant may quietly call the attention 
of the referee to any violation of the rules. While resting, 
principals may use a light chair in their corners ; but it must be 
placed outside by the attendants while the contest is in progress. 

5. Xo wrestling, clinching, hugging, butting, or anything 
done to injure an opponent, except by fair and manly boxing, 
shall be allowed. If a contestant should resort to clinching, 
his opponent hiay continue hitting, as long as he does not 
clinch, himself. A contestant shall not go to tlie floor to avoid 
his oi)ponent, or to obtain rest, nor shall he strike his opponent 
when down, or on one or both knees, nor be allowed to strike 
below the belt or waist. Xo ill feeling should exist between 
contestants, and the custom of shaking hands, before and after 
the contests, should never be omitted. 

0. A round shall be of three (o) minutes' duration, with one 
minute, between rounds, for rest ; and the time occupied in 
verbal contention or discussion shall be noted by the time- 
keeper, and it shall not be included as x^art of a round. In 
all matches, the number of rounds and weight of gloves should 
be mutually agreed upon. It is suggested that the gloves should 
not weigh less than three ounces each. 

7. If a glove shall burst or come off, it must be replaced 
inmiediately, to the satisfaction of the referee. Xo tamx)ering 
with the gloves, by forcing the hair from the knuckles, or 
otherwise, shall be allowed. The costume should be tights, 
with stockings and light shoes, and shirt, if desired. 

8. If either man is sent to the floor, or accidentally falls, he 
shall be allowed twelve seconds to rise and walk imassisted to 
the centre. In the meantime his opponent shall retire to his 
corner, and remain until the fallen man shall first reach the 
centre, when time shall be called and the round completed. 
If, however, the man fails to come to the centre within twelve 
seconds, the referee shall decide that he has lost the contest. 



98 ETHICS or BOXING A2sD MANLY SPORT. 

9. If a man is forced on to the ropes in such a manner as to 
be in a position Avhere he is imable to defend himself, it shall 
he the duty of the referee to order both men to the centre. 

10. If either principal becomes so exhausted that it is ap^ 
parently imprudent to continue, it shall be the duty of the 
referee to stop the contest, and give his decision in favor of 
the more deserving man. 

11. Spectators should not be allowed within three (3) feet of 
the enclosure. 

12. If at any time during the contest it should become 
evident that the parties interested, or by-standers, are doing 
anything to injure or intimidate either principal, or to wilfully 
interfere in any way to prevent him from fairly winning, the 
referee shall have the power to declare the principal so inter- 
fered with, the winner. Or, if at any time the ring is broken 
into to x^i'event the principals from finishing the contest, it 
shall then also be the duty of the referee to award the contest 
to the man who, at that time, has, in his opinion, the advan- 
tage. 

13. If, on the day named for the meeting, anything unavoid- 
able should occur to prevent the contest from taking place, or 
from being finished, the referee shall name the time and i:)lace 
for the next meeting, which must be within three days from 
the day of postponement, proper notice of which shall be given 
to both parties. Either man failing to appear at the time and 
place appointed by the referee, shall be deemed to have lost 
the contest. 

14. If there is anything said or done to intimidate the 
referee, while serving, or if the referee has any other good and 
sufficient reasons why his decision should not be immediately 
rendered, he shall have the right to reserve his decision, which, 
however, must be rendered within twenty-four hours after the 
contest. 

15. If the contest should occur in a field, blunt hobbles, not 
over one-eighth of an inch in thickness or length, shall be used 
in place of spikes on the soles of the shoes, and must be placed 
so as to be harmless to an opponent. 



APPENDIX. 99 

16. In order that exhibitions may be conducted in a quiet 
and orderly manner, the referee shoidd always request specta- 
tors to refrain from loud expressions or demonstrations, and 
any one guilty of such conduct, while a contest is in progress, 
should be severely condeuuied. 

Suggestion to Eefep.ee. — AVhile, in the foregoing rule3, 
broad and unrestricted powers are reposed in the referee, in 
order that his authority may be unquestioned in preventing 
iiitentional violations of the rules and of fair dealing, it is ex- 
pected that the referees will use the greatest caution and wisest 
discretion in the exercise of their power, and in distinguishing 
accidental mistakes, on the part of the contestants or their sup- 
porters, from wilful violations of the spirit of these articles. 



THE TRAINING OF ATHLETES TESTED 
BY EVERY-DAY LIFE. 



IS TRATXIXG IXJURIOUS? 

The training of athletes must ahvays be a sub- 
ject of general interest. If there bv^ an art by 
which men are made specially strong for some 
unusual period and purpose, how far can it be 
applied to the daily lives of aA^erage men? Is the 
trainino; of an athlete a solid buildino' of strenoth 
or is it even consistent with a lastino' condition of 
visforous health? 

These questions must be considered from two 
very different standpoints, namely, from that of 
the professional athlete and that of the average 
person who wants to get into lasting '\good 
condition." Throuo-hout this article, even when 
treating of special training, the amateur and 
his modified needs are not foro-otten. The in- 
formation intended for athleies in training for a 
contest, like their exercise and food, must be 

(101) 



1()2 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

condensed and particularized ; but it will be found 
to contain matter of common interest, needino' 
onlv the chauire suitable to indi^ddual circum- 
stances. 

It is undoubtedly true that the mass of those 
who liA^e in cities, and whose occupations involve 
little manual or i)hysical exercise, allow their 
bodies, at an earlv aae of manhood, to sink out 
of all trained and athletic strength and shapeli- 
ness. It is only necessary to visit a Turkish 
bath to find abundant evidence of the muscular 
collapse Avhich has overtaken the modern city- 
dweller : bodies ' ' developed ' ' everywhere in the 
wrong direction ; arms like pipe-stems, while the 
beautiful muscles of the shoulders and back are 
smothered in layers of vile fat, and spindle- 
thighs and straight calves weakly support bellies 
like Bacchus. 

AVhen the observer beholds the superb condi- 
tion of trained oarsmen entering a race, or of 
boxers going to fight for a championship, he 
stands in admiration of the firm and massive 
muscles, the light and elastic step, the strong 
wind, and the insensibility to blows that would 
produce concussion of the brain in a common 
man. Can the rules which produce these results 
l)e taken out of the training-school, and followed 
in common life, even with laro'c modifications? 



IS TRAINING INJURIOUS? 103 

The unhesitatino^ answer is — Xo. The train- 
ing of an athlete for a contest must continue 
to be essentially different from the trainino- of a 
man for his every-day liyino;. 

Furthermore, the training of an athlete, with 
the sino'le yiew of enahlinsr him to concentrate his 
entire muscular po^yers for a struggle lasting 
from ten minutes to two hours or more, is likely 
to be injurious ^yhen seemingly most successful. 
The injurious effects, howeyer, may be reduced 
to a minimum b}^ a careful adherence to physi- 
oloo;ical rules. 

" Training," says a physician, '^ sacrifices a man 
to muscle, not less than a prize pig is sacrificed 
to fat. Muscle and fat beimr in each case the 
special object, the success of the art is measured 
l)y the amount of the sacrifice. But it is not 
thus that men and pigs are made healthy." 

This is an extreme yiew, perhaps, particularly 
in sio'ht of recent improyement in training' svs- 
tems. But all forcing is injurious, and training 
is a forcing of the muscles. As Dr. Oliyer 
Wendell Holmes says, it is '' burning theyital fire 
with the blower up." It is like cramming for an 
examination — an immense amount of information 
is gathered in a yery brief space of time ; but too 
often the mind has been sacrificed to the memory ; 
the oyer-stimulated brain soon loses its yiaor ; 



104 ETHICS OF liOXlNG AM) MAXLY SPORT. 

the triumph has l^een i)urchased by a life of 
mediocrity or apathy. 

It was noted in ancient Rome that the athletes 
were short-lived, liable " to rupture of blood- 
vessels, to apoplexy, and lethargic complaints ; •' 
and it has been charo-ed that even the trainins: 
of our American college athletes, at least in the 
past, has had an injurious effect on their health. 

Still, it must be admitted, in favor of training, 
that the greatest athletes known in modern times 
were not short-lived. 

From the results of the training adopted at the 
English universities, it would appear that the 
constitution is even strenirthened, the intellect 
sharpened, and life lengthened. Dr. John Morgan 
(" University Oars," 1873), collected statistics of 
the subsequent health of those who have rowed 
ill the university races since 1829, and he found 
that, whereas at twenty years of age, according 
to Farr's life tables, the average expectation of 
survival is forty years, for these oarsmen it was 
forty-two years. Moreover, in cases of death, 
inquiry into its causes exhil)ited evidence of good 
constitutions rather than the contrarv, the causes 
consisting: larsfc^lv of fevers and accidents, to 
Avhich the vigorous and active are more exposed 
than the sick. 

And it was certainly not at the expense of the 



IS TUAlNIXCr INJUUIOUS? 



105 



mind, in tliese ciises, that the body was cultivated, 
for this roll of athletes is adorned with the names 
of 1)ishops, poets, (jiieen's counsel, etc. 

The followinii' table izives the names and ages 
of twenty-two of the most famous prize-fighters 
of En<rland, Irehmd, and America : 



NA.MK. 



JIOKN. 



John lirougliton 



Tom Johnson 

Daniel Mendoz.i 

John Jackson 

Jhn Belcher 

Tom Belcher 

John Gully 

TomCribb 

Dan Donnelly 

Tom Spring 

Bendigo (W. Thompson). . . . 

Ben Gamut 

Wm. Perry (Tipton Slasher). 

Kat Laughain 

Harry Orme 

Tom Paddock 

Harry Browne 

Deaf Burke 

Tom Sayers 

" Yankee " Sullivan 

John Morrissey 

John C. Heenan 



no;] 

1750 
1703 
1700 
1781 
1783 
1783 
1781 
1788 
1795 
1811 
1815 
1819 
1820 
1820 
1824 
1820 
1809 
1828 
1811 
1831 
1835 



DIED. 



1789 
1797 
1730 
1845 
1811 
1854 
1803 
1848 
1820 
1851 
1880 
1801 
1881 
1871 
1804 
1803 
1805 
1845 
1800 
1850 
1878 
1873 



AGE. 



85 
47 
i-) 
70 
30 
71 
80 
07 
32 
50 
09 
40 
01 
51 
39 
39 
39 
30 
38 
45 
47 



Averai?e Ac^e, 47. 



This is not a very bad showing for men whose 
profession involved numerous severe trainings 



lOfi ETHICS OF BOXlxa AND MANLY SPORT. 

and exhaustive conflicts, and whose lives in the 
intervals were usually dissipated and full of ex- 
citement. But it must be remembered that, to 
start with, these men were exceptional for health, 
strength, and probable longevity. 

These figures and facts seem to point to a pos- 
sible training, based on scientific principle??, b}^ 
which the highest possible muscular results may 
be obtained without injury to health. 



IL 

THE EVILS OF IMPROPER TRAINING. 

The ' ' sj'stem of training " pursued by most of 
those who train athletes, especially boxers, is, in 
the main, traditional, arbitrary, and unscientific. 
The main evils and dano-ers of the " svstem " are 
over-traininir, reduction of nervous force for the 
sake of muscular power, disregard of instruction 
in respiration, subjecting individuals of diflerent 
needs and appetites to the same rule, and training 
men who are from the first unfit to be trained. 

The end of training is to keep up the top speed 
or top force for a short or a long period. To do 
the latter requires the full development of the 
body, and long, careful, and patient preparation. 



THE EVILS OE I31PROl>EK TRAlMNCJ. 1()7 

In a long contest, of any kind, a bad man 
trained will beat a good man untrained. This is 
a notable fact. 

Training implies a struggle of some kind. It 
ought to l)e l)ased on the principles of physiology 
and the special needs of the individual athlete. 
The usual time allotted to training a man, or a 
crew, for a contested struggle, is six weeks. The 
objects to be ol)tained in this time are ; 

1. The removal of superfluous fat and Avater. 

2. The increase of contractile power in the 
nuiscles. 

3. Increased endurance. 

4. ''Wind," or the power of breathing, and 
circulnting the blood steadily, in spite of exertion. 

The first is arrived at mainly by a change of 
food ; the second and third by various muscular 
exercises ; the fourth by steadily keeping up such 
exercise as can only be sustained when the breath- 
i:ig and circulating organs do their full duty, such 
as running. Of course, each of these aids reacts 
on and helps all the others. 

Before considering the training that is benefi- 
cial, it may be well to glance at the unfortunate 
effects of the traditional systems of training that 
are too commonly followed. 

Though the training of our athletes grows 
better year l^y year (owing principally to the 



108 KTHIC8 OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

higher intelligence applied in the case of college 
oarsmen and irvmnasts), it is a fact that to-dav 
ahnost every boxer, and many other athletes, 
trained for a contest, are over-trained and seriously 
weakened. Quite recently, I saw a man on the 
day of his contest, whom his trainer spoke of as 
being 'mu splendid condition — hard as nails : lost 
twenty pounds in six weeks.'' The man was 
gaunt ; there was a look in his eye that was un- 
natural. His muscular system was wonderful to 
look on ; but it had drained almost his entire ner- 
vous vitalitv. He could bear hammerino:, and he 
could strike hard ; but the subtle and precious 
moral and nervous strength that would sustain 
him in a close fight, enable him to endure, and to 
leaj) into renewed opportunity, was drained dry 
to feed his hard muscles. He was naturally a 
brave and confident man ; l)ut that day, when the 
struggle tired and tested him, and his muscles 
were weary with opposition, he had no nervous 
force to sustain him, and he suffered, dodged, and 
at last Yielded, half-l)eaten, like a coward. The 
man had been trained out of humanity into a 
spiritless and thoughtless animal. 

It is notorious that '* over-trainin<2:" leads to a 
condition of system in which the sufierers describe 
themselves as " fallen to pieces." The most 
peculiar symptom is a sudden loss of voluntary 



THE EVILS OF IMPROPER TRAINING. 109 

power after exertion. It is sometimes called 
" fainting ; " but there is no loss of sense, and it is 
quickly relieved by liquid food. It is no uncommon 
thing to see a man in the ring or on the track come 
to a dead stop, though full of muscular power. 

This is sometimes caused by loss of "wind" 
(to be explained hereafter) ; l)ut much oftener it is 
the result of the complete overlooking of the ner- 
vous strength by a trainer ^vho thinks of no force 
except that which he can handle and measure. 

" The power which is to drive the muscles as 
the power of steam drives an engine, is produced 
by the nerves — a fact much overlooked." 

The effects of ovcr-traininir and isfnorant train- 
ing are strikingly shown in the following remarks 
bv a leadina' English medical lournal, " The 
Lancet," on the condition of John C. Heenan, the 
American boxer, when he fought King for the 
championship of England, in December, 1S63 : 

"The immense development of the muscles about the 
shoulders and chest was very remarkable. They stood out 
prominently, and as little encumbered with fat as if they had 
been cleaned with a scalpel. In firmness they resembled carti- 
lage. But, with all this splendid development, it was evident 
that Heenan had received a shock from Avhich his system was 
only slowly recovering; though whether this loss of power was 
due to punishment received in fight, or to the hard training which 
he had previously undergone, may be a disputed point. As physi- 
ologists, it seemed to us highly probable that his training had 
been too prolonged and too severe. AVlien Heenan went into 



110 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

training on Wednesday, the 23d of September — just eleven 
weeks before the match — his weight was fifteen stone, seven 
pomids. Ashe stepped into the ring on the lOtli instant, he 
was exactly fourteen stone. At the same time King weighed 
thirteen stone, though he was three quarters of an inch taller 
than Heenan, whose height was six feet one and one half 
inches. Those who know what severe training means will, 
perhaps, agree that Heenan was probably in a better condition 
five weeks before meeting his antagonist, than on the morning 
of his defeat, although when he stripped for fighting the look- 
ers-on all agreed that he seemed to promise himself an easy 
victory, while exulting in his fine proportions and splendid 
muscular development. It is now clearly proven that Heenan 
went into the contest i':lfh much more muscular fJian vital power. 
Long before he had met with any severe punishment — indeed, 
as he states at the close of the third round — he felt faint, 
breathed with much difiiculty, and, as he described it, his res- 
piration was "roaring." He declares that he received more 
severe treatment at the hands of Sayers than he did from King ; 
yet at the termination of the former fight, which lasted 
upwards of two hours, he was so fresh as to lea}) over tAvo or 
three hurdles, and distance many of his friends in the race. It 
was noticed on the present occasion that his physique had 
deteriorated, and that he looked much older than at his last 
appearance in the ring. Without offering any opinion as to 
the merits of the combatants, it is certain that Heenan was in 
a state of deteriorated health when he faced his opponent ; and 
it ii fair to conclude that the deterioration was due, in a great 
measure, to the severity of the training which he had under- 
gone. As with the mind, so with the body, undue and pro- 
longed exertion must end in depression of power. In the 
process of physical education of the young, in training of our 
recruits, or in the sports of the athlete, the case of Heenan 
suggests a striking commentary of great interest in a physical 
point of view. While exercise, properly so called, tends to 
development and health, excessive exertion produces debility 
and decav." 



MUSCULAR AND KESriKATOKY POWEK. Hi 



III. 



MUSCULAR POWER SECONDARY TO RESPIRATORY 

POWER. 

" Muscular power," says a leading English 
authority on training (Maclaren), ^' plays quite 
a secondary part in rowing; respiratory power 
makes the first claim, and makes it more exact- 
ingly than in any other mode of physical exertion 
in which men can be engaged." 

I do not think that rowinir makes a li'reater 
claim on '^ the wind" than any other exercise. 
I am convinced that a heavier demand on tlie 
lungs is made by both fast swimming and boxing 
— undou1)tedly by tlie latter. Probably nine 
pu2:ilistic contests out of a dozen are decided by 
superior 'Mvind," and this is true pf almost all 
tast-swimming matches. 

In another place in this article reference is 
made to the need of deep-breathing for the attain- 
ment of general health. But it is not deep- 
breathino; alone that the struo-olino' athlete needs. 
He must, by practice, attain the art of holding It is 
breath and adding thereto. Even in deep-breath- 
ing the lungs are never emptied of resident air. 
Fresh air must be stored for a time in the lungs 



112 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AXD MANLY SPOKT. 

before it is allowed to reach the blood. AVe 
retain about two hundred and fifty cubic inches of 
this resident air (which is the tempered reservoir 
Avhence the blood derives its oxygen), and grad- 
uallv renew and chanij^e it bv breathino\ AVe 
inspire only some twenty-five to thirty cul)ic 
inches of fresh, cold air at each breath. This 
is a man's normal resting condition ; of course, 
Avhen strong; exercise bea'ins the blood demands 
more freih air. The novice, or the unin- 
structed athlete, when exercise begins, commits 
the o'nxve mistake of l^reathin^; out his resident 
air, to make room for a deeper inspiration. But 
the cold, fresh air is not allowed by nature to 
reach the air-cells : if it chances to o'et down too 
far it makes us cough ; it is too cold, and has too 
much oxva'en. Therefore, a vacuum, or half-filled 
space, is created ; the novice g^ts '^ out of breath ; " 
and, if he cannot gradually recover what he has 
h)st, he must come to a stop. 

The properly trained man, on the contrary, 
endeavors to keep all the air he has got, and to 
add to it, by intruding on the complementary 
space. When he has regained the small quantity 
necessarily lost at starting the muscular action, 
and increased on it, he has got what is called 
his '' second wind," and then he is al)le to go on 
while his muscular power holds out. 



MUSCULAR AND RESPIRATOKY POWER. 118 

Running is the best exercise to increase the 
breathing and staying power, as the muscles used 
in propelling the runner's body do not interfere 
witii those of respiration. The runner can hold 
his breath, with the chest fully extended, for a 
long time, while the rower, for instance, must fill 
his lungs at each stroke, — from thirty to forty 
times a minute. But, with practice, the rower 
can keep his chest well filled without letting out 
his resident air ; he lets out a small quantity only, 
and fills this up again, so as to keep the full com- 
plement of air necessary for the blood without 
changing a great quantity at each breath. 

As the arm increases in girth from using the 
dumb-bell, the chest of the runner and oarsman 
accustoms itself to the laro-er demands made 
upon it, both for breathing and holding the wind. 

It must be remembered that many persons, 
though muscular and athletic, can never learn 
to do anything that demands rapid respiration. 
They can put forth their strength slowly ; but 
they always get " winded" in a rapid and vigorous 
test. Persons, with this peculiarity, usually try 
to cure themselves by muscular exertion ; but 
this is wrons:. AVhat thev need is intellio:ent and 
lono'-continued exercise of various kinds for the 
breathinof oro-ans. 

•'Indigestion, sleeplessness, nervous indecision, 



114 ETH1C8 OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

palpitation of the heart, and irreguhirity of the 
bowels disappear under proper training," says an 
able physician and athlete; 'H^ut if they exist, 
the regimen should be entered upon with more 
than usual caution.*' 



IV. 

THE FOOD OF ATHLETES IN TRAINING. 

'* Haed work trains," says an authority (Wood- 
gate), " and diet keeps the frame up to its work." 
This has been the principle on which training, of 
beast and man alike, has been carried out since 
the benefits of " condition" were first appreciated. 

Trainers usually l:)eo:in with excessive emetics 
and aperients, '^to clear the blood." There is no 
particular harm in this, if they do not make the 
man or crew work hard till " tone " is recovered. 
Then comes re2:ular feedinir ii'ood in itself, but 
with the usual order — ''the less drinldng the 
better — liquids swell and soften the body." In 
defiance of the physiological fact that difterent 
individuals need different quantities of liquid as 
well as of solid food, this practice will be applied 
generall3\ Of course it brings about a rapid re- 
duction of flesh ; but it severely reduces strenofth, 
nervous and physical, at the same time. 

The true rule for drinkinir while " in training' 



i 



THE FOOD OF ATHLETES IN TRAINING. 115 

is — first bar out seductive and injurious drinks, 
and then drink when you want ; but only drink 
water. The ''swelling" and ''soft flesh" are 
rank nonsense. 

Trainers exclude most veo:e tables, as beins: 
"watery food," — another flagrant error. The 
acids of vegetables are necessities for the blood, 
for digestion ; and, besides, their strength as food 
is very great. 

Under all systems of training and rules of diet, 
it must never be forgotten that ' ' what is one 
man's food is anotlier man's poison." 

The Greeks of old fed their athletes on wheaten 
bread, fresh cheese, and dried figs ; later they ad- 
vanced to beef and pork ; but the bread and meat 
were taken separately, the former at breakfast, the 
latter at dinner. Except in wine the quantity of 
food and drink for Greek athletes was unlimited. 
The exercises consisted, besides the ordinary 
gymnastic instruction of the j)aloest7Xt, in carrying 
heavy loads, lifting weights, bending iron rods, 
striking at a suspended leather sack filled with 
sand or flour, taming bulls, etc. 

The modern athlete, in training, eats meat at 
least three times a day. The best systems are 
those pursued at^ the great universities of 
England and America. As an example, I give 
here the Oxford system of training for the summer 
boat-race : 



IK) ETHICIS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT, 



A DAY S 
Rise about 7 a.m. 

Exercise < 



Breakfast at 8.30 

P.M. 



Exercise in fore- 
noon 



Dinner at 2 p.m. 



Exercise. 



Supper at 8.30 or 
9 p.m 



Bed at 10 p.m. 



TRAINING AT OXFORD. 

A short walk or ( ^^ 
P^ \ Not compulsory. 

( As little as possi- 
Oftea \ ^,1^ 

Meat^ beef or mut- ( ^^ , 

i L nder done, 
ton ( 

r^ , ^ . ^ { Crust only recom- 
Bread or dry toast. ) , ; 

( mended. 

N^one 

Meat much the 
same as at break- 
fast 

^ , ( Crust only recom- 

Bread , : 

I mended. 

Vegetables, none., i >^ot always adher- 
l ed to. 

Beer, one pint .... 

About live o'clock 
start for the river 
and row twice over 
the course, the 
speed increasing 
with the strength 
of the crew 

Meat, cold 

Bread, and perhaps 
a little jelly or 

water- cresses 

Beer, one pint 



THE FOOD OF ATHLETES IN TRAINING. 117 

Dr. T. K. Chambers, a renowned British scien- 
tific authority, says of this system : 

"It may be considered a typical regimen for fully develop- 
ing a young man's corporeal powers to fulfil the demands of 
an extraordinary exertion, a standard which may be modified 
according to the circumstances for which the training is 
required/' 

The Cambridge (England) system differs very 
slightly from the above ; and in neither is any 
exaggerated severity of discipline enforced, nor 
any rigid suppression of peculiarities or wish for 
variety . 

The system of training pursued by the Harvard 
University crews is generally the same as that fol- 
lowed by the English universities. It may, how- 
ever, be noted that the same degree of perfection 
has not yet been attained l)y Harvard, nor is it 
claimed by the gentlemen who have this care in 
hand. " The chief difference to be found in favor 
of Oxford or Cambridge, England," says a Har- 
vard oarsman and athletic authority, '' is the 
permanency of their principles. They do not 
swing around the compass either at defeat or 
victory." 

The system at Yale, independently of the 
varying styles of rowing, resembles also that of 
the English universities. Yale, however, in the 
matter of trainino- has the best-orii:anized colleo-e 
system in America. 



118 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

The following extremely valuable contribution 
to the physiological lore of training, undoubtedly 
one of the ablest treatises ever prepared on the 
special subject, has been written for this book by 
a distinguished Boston physician, who has made 
it a particular stud}^ — Dr. Francis A. Harris, 
Medical Examiner of Suffolk County, Professor 
of Suroferv in the Boston Dental CoUeo-e, Demon- 
strator of Medico-Leo-al Examinations in Harvard 
University, etc. : — 

The question of the ahmentation, or feeding of the athlete, 
is one to be determined by the consideration of several factors 
in the result to be obtained. 

These factors are, in general, first, the development of the 
body to such a degree, that, with the best muscular condition, 
there shall also be the nicest possible balance between the 
various systems, musciQar and nervous. The human body is, 
as it were, a sort of chemical engine; and, however perfect the 
machine may be made, if the motive power be not kept sup- 
plied, the machine is useless. 

A second factor is the removal of the superfluous, and the 
superfluous only. Athletes and their trainers are too apt to 
carry the reduction of fat to a point below the requirements 
of proper physical health. Fat, beside other functions, sup- 
plies heat to the body; and, for most chemical processes, a 
certain temperature is requisite; and, in so far as the fuel 
necessary for sustaining that temperature is taken away, so far 
are the chemical changes interfered with. This is especially 
true of the changes in man. Most men are trained too fine. 
It is a matter of history, that, in the Oxford-Harvard race of 
1869, two of the crew, by training till two others who joined 
them weeks later were in condition, were so far below their 
own best physical condition as to render the crew, as a whole. 



■i 

i 



THE FOOD OF ATHLETES IN TRAINING. 119 

not fit to do its best work, and caused a defeat, which, perhaps, 
was unavoidable, greater than it otherwise would have been. 
I am aware that this statement has been disputed ; but, as one 
present at the time, I am firmly convinced such was the case. 

A third factor is the development of what is essential for 
perfect condition to a degree consistent with a proper working 
of all parts, — muscular, nervous, respiratory, and digestive. 

All this involves the consideration of the following mat- 
ters : — 

1. The kind of food. 

2. The quantity of food. 

3. The methods of preparation. 

4. The variety. 

5. The conditions under which the food is used, as to time, 
relative to exercise and sleep, and the interval between meals. 

6. The question of fluids; and 

7. Indirectly, the question of alcohol and tobacco. 

The determination of the kind of food depends upon broad 
physiological prin Mples. Each trainer may, and generally does, 
have a diet -list which he considers the only proper one. Yet 
each is so far good, and so far bad, as it coincides with, or 
departs from, the general principles of ijhysiology. The human 
machine, reduced roughly to its lowest common denominator, 
is a mass made up of chemical elements ; chiefly carbon, oxy- 
gen, hydrogen, nitrogen, together with lime, sulphur, phos- 
phorus, and iron. 

The oxygen is, of course, chiefly supplied from the air, and, 
to a less degree, from water. Hence the necessity of good 
respiratory apparatus, — lungs that shall not only work well, 
but shall have as great volume as possible. The oxygen is 
rapidly consumed in the body. The greater the amount of 
exercise, the greater the waste, or rather expenditure, of mate- 
rial, including oxygen, and the greater the necessity for having 
large reserv^oirs from which to draw. 

Wind is as essential, perhaps more essential than muscle; 
for a man in rowing, or running, may have plenty of muscle to 
go farther, but his exertions have expended more oxygen than 



120 ETHICS OF BOXIKG AND 3IANLY SPOKT. 

liis lungs can replace, and the machine won't go. The battery 
is run out. Tlie lungs can be developed, as well as any other 
portion of the body, by exercising them in their own functions. 
Deep inspirations while at rest, running, and the use of those 
muscles (as those of the upjDer arms and shoulders) whose move- 
ments tend to expand the chest, will so enlarge the capacity of 
the limgs that great amounts of one of the most important 
chemical foods of the body can be taken into the system. 

The other elements are to be found in any ordinary list of 
articles of diet; and, as a matter of fact, two or three articles 
may supi)ly them all, — meats ; including beef, mutton, veal, 
lamb, pork, poultry, and game ; vegetables, including potatoes, 
corn, spinach, onions, peas, and beans; fish; bread in its vari- 
ous forms, oatmeal, eggs, milk, and fruit, make a list from which, 
with the addition of condiments, all necessary supplies obtain- 
able from food may be had. From such a list, however, selec- 
tions are obviously to be made with advantage. 

N"ot alone is the food itself to be taken into the stomach; 
but, to accomplish its desired end with the least difficulty to 
the organism, the food must be of such kind as to be most 
easily and readily digested and assimilated. 

For that reason, of the meats ; beef, mutton, lamb, and game 
are to be preferred, as well as the dark, rather than light, meat 
of fowls. 

Fish of the white-meated variety. 

Oysters raw, not cooked. 

Potatoes and oatmeal suffice for starch.^ 

Bread well cooked, and not of the finer grades of flour. 

Milk is to be regarded as a solid food, and not a beverage. 
It is very rich in nutriment, and is very readily digested and 
assimilated. 

The quantity of food is, in a measure, to be proportioned to 
the amount of work done as well as to the individual according 
to size. As to the amount to be taken, experience has shown, 
that, for a hard-working man, thirty to forty ounces a day are 
sufficient. But quantity depends on one other thing. That 
food may be properly digested, a certain amount of distension 



THE rOOD OF ATHLETES IX TRAINING. 121 

of the stomach is necessary; that is, for example, if all the 
food necessary for twenty-fom* hours could be condensed into 
three boluses, or pills, these pills would not nourish the body 
like the same food taken in the ordinary form. From^this, it 
is easy to see that fish is a desirable article of food, as it satis- 
fies the cravings of appetite; and, though taken in considerable 
quantity, is so deficient in nutritive matter, as compared with 
meat, that it does not largely tend to replace the fat used up in 
the body. It is true that a person, by change of diet from one 
containing much starch (;:hat is, articles like potatoes, bread, 
oatmeal, etc.) to one of meat chiefly, loses his fat. This loss, 
however, is due to the natural consumption of the fat in con- 
sequence of exercise, and the fact that it is not replaced by the 
food taken. From the starchy foods come the sugar, and on 
the sugar is largely dependent the formation of fat. 

But, even at risk of repetition, I cannot too strongly urge 
the use of good judgment in this matter of reduction of fat. 
Fat is useful, it is essential, and it is too common a practice to 
endeavor to get rid of it all. Yet, in so far as it is reduced 
beyond its proper ratio to the rest of the body, just so far does 
the body fall short of the perfect machine sought to be devel- 
oped. As it is, however, at the start, generally in excess, the 
diet, in the matter of fat -producing foods, should be restricted. 
Not over one pound of bread or potatoes, out of a whole diet 
of forty ounces, should be eaten. 

The method of cooking has much to do with the nutritive 
quaUties of a given food after it is eaten. Meats should be 
roasted or broiled, rather than baked or fried or boiled. In 
this way their juices are best retained. Starchy foods and fish 
should be thoroughly cooked, while meats should be a little 
underdone. 

The list of foods mentioned above should furnish sufficient 
variety ; indeed, a very small portion of the list would furnish 
all the essentials ; but variety itself is an essential. The long- 
continued use of a single article inspires disgust, and, in con- 
se'iuence, a smaller amount of food is taken, and even that 
amount less readily digested, as the fluids necessary to that 



122 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

process are not poured out as freely as for those things which 
are appetizincj. It is not necessary that the mouth should 
" water," but it must not be dry. 

The conditions mider which food is taken are of great im- 
portance. It should not be taken, in any considerable quantity, 
either directly before or directly after sleep. It should not be 
taken either immediately before or after severe exercise. The 
nervous system, after the complete rest of sleep, must have a 
little time to get in working order, to acquire momentum, as it 
were, before it furnishes the motive-power for digestion; and, 
on the other hand, if called on to do it at a time when sleep 
i > required, it is apt to work imperfectly or not at all, and so 
both digestion and sleep are interfered with. The same 
principles apply to exercise. When the body is exhausted by 
violent or long-continued work, it is not in condition to perform 
the function of digestion; nor, if called from the performance 
of this function to perform severe muscular exercise, can it do 
so without, as it were, neglecting the work imperative to be 
done in digestion. 

In such a case the food passes undigested into the bowels ; it 
acts as an irritant, and bowel troubles ensue as a consequence 
of nature's attempt to get rid of what is really foreign matter. 

Without laying down a rule to be absolutely followed in all 
cases, it is safe to say that some such plan as this should be 
followed : 

Rise at six; bathe; take about two ounces (a small cup) of 
coffee, with milk, — this is really a stimulating soup. Then 
light exercise, chiefly devoted to lungs; a little rest; the break- 
fast of meat, bread, or oatmeal, vegetables, with no coffee; an 
hour's rest. Then the heaviest exercise of the day. This is 
contrar^^ to rule ; but I believe the heaviest exercise should be 
taken before the heaviest meal; a rest before dinner. This 
meal, if breakfast be taken at seven, or eight, should be at 
one, or two, not leaving a longer interval than five hours be.- 
tween the meals. At dinner, again meat, vegetables, bread, 
perhaps a half-pint of malt liquor, no sweets. Then a longer 
rest; exercise till five. Supper light, — bread, milk, perhaps 



I 



THE FOOD OF ATHLETES IX TRAINING. 12 



o 



with an egg. Half an hour later a cup of tea, and bed at 
nine. 

This is, of course, but a rough outline; but indicates the 
general plan. 

In the rest after dinner there must be no sleep. While 
breakfast and dinner should be the important meals, the din- 
ner should be the heavier, and should be in the middle of the 
day. 

The amount of fluid taken should be only moderate, especi- 
ally when it is a question of reducing fat. By rendering the 
solution of food in the stomach more -dilute it promotes the 
rapidity of absorption, and, in fact, increases the actual amount 
of nutriment absorbed. Yet, water is, probably, the most im- 
portant article taken into the stomach of man. A person can 
endure hunger much longer than thirst ; and the demand for 
water will make itself felt more quickly and more imi^eratively 
than the demand for food. It is my belief, that, as a rule, in 
training, too little water is allowed. Three quarts, rather than 
three pints a day. There are good reasons for this. ^lany of 
the refuse particles, left after the chemistry of the body, are 
carried out by the kidneys. If there is not supply of water 
enough to hold these matters in solution, the effect of too con- 
centrated secretion from those organs will make itself felt in 
serious disturbance, if not in actual disease ; and, when it is 
remembered how much of the water is carried off by the lungs 
and skin, — in breathing and in i^erspiration, — an additional 
reason for caution in undue deprivation of water, is manifest. 

Of course, if milk or beer is used, that, to a certain extent, 
will diminish the necessity for water. 

It should be stated here, however, that milk, if used in the 
diet, is to be regarded rather as a solid food, than as a bever- 
age, — a pint of good milk being nearly the equivalent in 
nutritive properties to a pound of steak. One reason that 
milk is said to be hard of digestion by certain people is, that 
after a hearty meal they drink milk for a beverage, putting, as 
it were, one steak on top of another; and wondering why the 
stomach will not manage it all. Another reason why tliere 



124 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

should not be too great a deprivation of water is, that this loss 
is so keenly felt as to almost cause suffering, — certainly irrita- 
tion, — and so disturbs the tranquillity and perfect working 
of the nervous system as to destroy that balance which is so 
necessary. 

On this point, a word about sleep. The brain must have its 
exercise and its rest as well as the muscles. It must be nour- 
ished. Foods containing phosphorus (as fish) should be used. 
During the intervals between muscular exercise it should be kept 
moderately employed, and not too much stimulated. Eeading, 
chat, discussions not too exciting, and games not calculated to 
arouse too great an excitement (that is, chess — not poker). 
The man should have plenty of sleep. While some men can 
go without much sleep, the average man, and especially the 
man in training, should have eight hours. 

In the nervous system is the motive-power of the machine ; 
and in so far as that is exhausted, or impaired, or neglected by 
exclusive attention to the other systems, in so far will the ma- 
chine fail to work. 

As to alcohol and tobacco : it may safely be said that, on 
general principles, they are both artificial demands, unneces- 
sary, and therefore not beneficial. As, however, in these days, 
a large proportion of men are habituated to their use, and the 
system has become, in a measure, dependent upon them for 
the performance of certain functions, that the immediate and 
entire abandonment of their use is not to be advised. The 
amount of alcohol should be very much restricted, — only 
what would be contained in a pint of malt liquor, at the most, 
and that at meal-time, should be taken. Tobacco should, also, 
be restricted, and gradually diminished till none at all is used. 
The heart, which has been long accustomed to be whipped up 
by alcohol, and soothed down (though irritated) by tobacco, 
will not w^ork so well till it has been gradually accustomed to 
other treatment. 

As all the digestive functions should be performed properly, 
and as the diminution of water supply is likely to be consider- 
able, certain vegetables, like spinach and onions, and certain 



rOOL> AND EXERCISE IN TRAINING. 125 

fruits, should be occasionally allowed, in si^ite of their sugar, 
for laxative purposes, — a method much better than the resort 
to more artificial means. 

Whether severe training is good for a man, or not, is a mat- 
ter of dispute. I cannot believe that it will increase longevity. 
The average condition is better than intermittent, severe strain. 
When one thinks what the heart is called on to do in severe 
exercise and training, it is hard to see how the lasting power 
of that organ can be increased by it, — that little organ, not 
larger than the fist, with its delicate, translucent valves, yet 
which, with proper care, will send a current of blood, one 
eighth the weight of the body (that is, seventeen pounds in a 
man weighing one hundred and forty) through that body every 
twenty seconds, waking or sleeping, from birth, perhaps, for a 
hundred years. This muscle has no chance to rest like the 
others. When that rests, the machine is broken. It has to be 
ready to work harder in sickness and accident. Isn't it asking 
too nuich of it, in addition, to do the extra work in training, 
and expect it to carry us to our three- score years and ten? 



V. 

A day's food and exercise in training. 

The training of athletes will vary, of course, 
with the nature of the contest ; but one may 
give a generalized sketch of a day's exercise in 
trainin«^, differina* more or less from the fore- 
going systems. It will be observed that Dr. 
Harris, in his suggestions, which ought to be 
invaluable to athletes, materially differs from 



12() KTH1C8 OF BOXING AND MANLY 8POKT. 

the Oxford system of training. It may be safely 
concluded that Dr. Harris writes with a careful 
regard to the circumstances of American life, 
and that his rules are better suited to the needs 
of American athletes. 

An athlete, in trainino', devotes his whole time 
to the reo'ular observance of rules. This rei^ular- 
ity is not possible for persons employed in shops, 
stores, and professions. They are sure to be 
far from their runnino-oround, their boat, their 
swimming-bath, &c. Still, there are many oars- 
men, and others, Avho have to work all day — 
even while training — and they must adapt their 
exercises to their needs and time. The one exer- 
cise none can afford to nea*lect is runninas to 
clear the wind. 

Seven o'clock is a good time for an athlete in 
trainin«: to rise. He ous^ht to i>'et a o^ood dry- 
rubbing, and then spunge his body Avith cold 
water, or have a shower-bath, with a thorough 
rubbintr afterwards. He will then ^o out to ex- 
ercise before breakfast, — not to run hard, as is 
commonly taught, but to w^alk briskly for an 
hour, while exercising his lungs in deep-breath- 

inir. 

Few men can stand running before breakfast. 
It produces nausea, spoils the breakfast, and 
throws them out for the whole dav. The food 



FOOD AND EXERCISE IN TRAINING. 127 

eaten at nio:ht has Ions; been consumed, and it is 
obviously wrong to make a violent effort while 
the muscular and nerve organs are in a state of 
inanition. But the walk and the open air wall 
give a man an appetite for his breakfast. 

Charles Westhall, the pedestrian, who gave 
much intelligent and experienced consideration to 
trainino^. savs : — 

' ' The walk should be taken at such a pace that the skin 
does not become moist, but have a good, healthy glow on the 
surface, and the man be at once ready for his breakfast at 
eight o'clock." 

Westhall recommends that, before this w^alk, 
an egg in a cup of tea, or something of the kind, 
should be taken. 

The breakfast need not always consist of a 
broiled mutton-chop or cutlet; a broiled steak, 
broiled chicken, or broiled fish, or some of each, 
may be taken, with tea or coflee. (Dr. Harris's 
regimen is excellent throughout.) 

After breakfast, a o;ood rest for di2:estion. 
About half-past ten, a man training for a boxing- 
contest might '^ punch the bag" (always an air- 
bag) for fifteen or twenty minutes, and spar four 
three-minute rounds briskly with his attendant. 
For the last two weeks of his trainins;, this ouaht 
to be increased to eight or ten, or even fifteen, 
three-minute rounds, and the time-keeper should 



128 KTHICS or BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

see that he gets full tmie in each round. At no 
time during the day ought a man in training to 
loll about idly. 

Whether for boxino:, rowins:, wrestlins:, or swim- 
mins:, there oua'ht to be a re2:ular runnino; exercise 
before the mid-day meal. This exercise ought to 
beo:in moderately for time and distance, and in- 
crease gradually ; the last quarter of the run 
should always be at the top speed. 

If the men are trainino; for rowins:, thev ou2:ht 
to exercise in the boat twice every day. Let it 
not be forgotten that constant exercise, spread 
over a Ions; period, is necessary to brinir the 
muscular system into condition which can he cle- 
pended upon, 

'• Muscle may be full and firm, yet, if it be inactive for the 
greater part of its existence, it will not be capable of long and 
sustained exertion. Look at the muscle of the breast of a fowl 
or a pheasant: it is not deficient; it is large and plump; it 
serves its purpose when called upon. But, if we contrast it 
with that of a grouse or a ^^'ood-pigeon, what a difference may 
be observed! The muscle of the latter bird is so dark from 
arterialized material and blood-vessels, that it looks black be- 
side the ' white meat ' of the former. The one is incessantly 
in motion, taking active exercise in quest of food and shelter ; 
the other scarcely moves about at all. Xow, we want to ap- 
proach the condition of the grouse, not of the hen, to be capa- 
ble not only of a violent and short, but also of a long- sustained, 
eifort; and, for this, many hours' exercise every day is needed." 
— IT. Clasper. 

Dinner may be far more varied than is usually 



FOOD AND EXERCISE IX TRAINING. 129 

allowed by the trainer's " system." Any kind of 
butcher's meat, plainly cooked, with a variety of 
fresh vegetables, may be taken, with ordinary 
light puddings, stewed fruit, but no pastry. A 
o'ood time for dinner is one o'clock. 

An American athlete, when thirsty, ought to 
have only one drink, — water. The climate and 
the custom in En2:land favor the diinkino; of beer 
or claret; but, beyond question, the best drink 
for a man in training is pure water. After din- 
ner, rest, but no dozins: or siesta. This sort of 
rest only spoils digestion, and makes men feel 
slack and " limp." 

After two-and-a-half hours' rest, with walking 
exercise, the final work of the day — running, 
boxing, rowing, or hand-ball exercise, or all of 
these — always more than one. There should be 
two full hours of exercise at this period of the 
day, varied in speed, care being taken, whether 
in rowing, running, or boxing, that not too much 
is done at the top speed. '' If a man or a crew 
has been exercised at high pressure on one day, 
he should be allowed to do less the following 
evenmg, and he will be all the better on the 
third." — (McLaren.) When work is over, a man 
may have a bath, and be well rubbed down. (I 
have seen a rough silk mitten, manufactured in 
Boston, which is most excellent for the rubbing, 



130 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MAXLY SPORT. 

both wet and diy.) If the athlete be thirsty, let 
him drink water, rinsing his mouth frequently. 
Supper, at six o'clock, should not be a second 
dinner; but neither should it consist of '' slops" 
or sfruel. The food recommended by Dr. 
Harris is excellent and sufficient. The athlete 
ouirht to be in bed by ten o'clock, in a room 
with open window, and a draught through 
the room, if possible, though not across the 
bed. He ought to sleep on a mattress, 
warmly but lightly coyered, and irithout a pillow. 
As explained later on, pillows are unnecessary to 
all but certain sick people. They injuriously 
aftect the breathino:, w^eaken the muscles of the 
neck, making the neck lose one or tw^o inches in 
girth, and take away the greatest hixury of rest 
and sleep. 

Running, though indispensable for clearing the 
wind in the early weeks of traininof, should 
usually be dispensed with at least two wrecks 
before a boat-race. ''A crew," says W. K. 
Woodo'ate, ''that has rowed a slow stroke, and 
has meantime got fit (into condition), by running, 
will row" a quick stroke with more uniformity 
later on than a crew that has done no runnin<r, 
but has got fit by fast rowing. The latter crew 
has always been abroad w^hen ' blown,' and so has 
contracted faults. The former, w^hen the time 



EXERCISES AND HOW TO PRACTISE THEM, lol 

for quick strokes comes, is like machinery in 
action, fit in wind, and has, therefore, neither 
exhaustion nor irreguhirity to throw it out of 
gear when the fast stroke is essayed." 

It may not he out of place to say that men are 
more often injured hy the going out of training 
than by the training itself. A reckless and 
sudden chano'e from asceticism to license is more 
harmful than all the severities of traininof. '•To 
make the conclusion of training an excuse for in- 
dulgence and excess not only injures health of 
body, but stultifies the lessons of practice, of self- 
control, and fixed habit, which are among the chief 
moral recommendations of modern athletics." 



VI. 

VARIOUS EXERCISES AND HOW TO PRACTISE THEM. 

The best exercise for a man training' for a box- 
ing-match is boxins^ ; the next best is runnins;. 
The best exercise for a crew trainino- for a row- 



'n 



mg-race is rowing ; the next best is running. 

The best exercise for a man trainins: for 
swimming-match is swimming; the next best is 



a 



running. 



132 ETHICS OF HOXINCJ A:SI) MAXLY 8POKT. 

And so with other contests : running is not 
only second best, but is absolutely necessary in 
each, for running excels all exercises for develop- 
ing '* the wind." This is simply because the 
muscular action of the runner enables him to 
hold and increase his wind more easily than is 
possible under the varied and violent arm and 
chest motions of the boxer, the oarsman, or the 
swimmer. 

A boxer, in trainino- for a contest, oua'ht not to 
confine his sparring to one or two men. He 
ought to s]:)ar Avith new and able men, and with 
as many as possil)lc. It is a radical and common 
error to confine the exercise to one opponent, no 
matter how good he may be. After a dozen 
bouts together, two men know every stop on each 
other's o-amut — even the variations are not sur- 
prises. New men, new wa3^s. The l)oxer or the 
swordsman who uses himself only to a single 
opponent, is very apt to lack confidence Avitli a 
stranger. On the other hand, he who is used to 
many antagonists welcomes a new man with a 
powerful sense of knowledge and confidence. 

Another exercise in sparring, next best to the 
opposition of a living l)oxer, is a hanging bag — 
not a sand-bas; or a fiour-bair, Jis of old — but an 
air-ba^. 

The heavy sand-bag (thirty or forty pounds 



i 



EXERCISES AND HOW TO PRACTISE THEM. 13 



o 



weight) , which moved only a few mches even when 
struck heavilj^, was good, mamly, for one thing 
which, it is to be hoped, is out of date and unnec- 
essary — the hardening of the knuckles and skin 
of the hands. For practice in hitting, it was not 
o'ood. One mia'ht as well strike the wall. It 
calls for no rapidity, no swift directness, no agile 
" ducking," retiring, or stepping aside to escape a 
return. 

The air-bag (a leathern foot-ball is best) is as 
quick and as straight in return as a first-rate 
boxer. To strike it hard, very hard (so that it 
rebounds from the ceilins; three or four times, 
according: to the force of the blow and heis^ht of 
the room), is an excellent kind of solitary boxing 
exercise ; so, also, is the rapid and continuous hit- 
ting it with one hand. Besides this, it is interesting 
exercise. A man has to ivorJc with a sand-bag; 
he h:is fun with an air-ball, and he can return to 
it with pleasure and interest two or three times a 
day. 

For muscle-hardenins: exercise, there is nothina" 
l)etter than the dumb-bell — onlf/ it must be a very 
small dumh-hell — not a very large one, as of old. 
The best size is an iron, two-pound dumb-bell. 
This is the size with which the strongest men 
exercise nowadays. 

It is admitted, at last, that the object of exer- 



lo4 ETHICS OF BOXING AND 3IANLY SPORT. 

cise is not to strain but to strengthen. Heavy 
dumb-bells strain ; lioht ones stren2:tlien. 

^' The effects of exercise," says an English med- 
ical authority on training, ''are twofold: on the 
one hand a stimulus is given to the action of the 
heart and lunos which enables the blood to be 
more thoroughly oxygenated and more rapidly 
circulated ; on the other hand, there is an expendi- 
ture of force accompanying the increased activity 
of the oro'anic chano;es. Exercise strenofthens the 
parts exercised, because it increases the nutrition 
of those parts. When any organ or muscle is in- 
active, the circulation in it l)ecomes less and less ; 
the smaller net-work of its blood-vessels are empty 
or but half filled ; the streams gradually run in 
fewer channels, and the organ, ceasing to be 
thoroughly nourished, wastes away. When the 
organ is active all its vessels are filled ; all the 
vital changes, on which depend its growth and 
power, proceed rapidly. The force expended is 
renewed, unless the expenditure has been exces- 
sive, in which case there is a disturbance of the 
mechanism, and depression, or disease, results. 
The advantaije of exercise to a student, 
politician, or an}' other brain-worker, is that it 
lessens the over-stimulus of his brain, distributes 
the 1)lood more equally, calling to his muscles 
some of those streams which would impetuously 
be rushino- throua'h his brain." 



EXERCISES AND HOAV TO TKACTISE THEM. 135 

In other words, exercise with the arms, legs, 
or trunk, relieves the congested brain as surely, 
and, of course, far more healthfully than bleeding. 

To return to the need and superiority of the 
light over the heavy dumb-bell : exercise with 
the latter is necessarily brief. The single heavy 
dumb-bell can be lifted from four to twenty times, 
say, according to its weight. The whole body 
is violently strained for the l)rief eflbrt. Quite 
often, if the lifting be not carefully graduated in 
weight, the in-rushing blood bursts some of the 
finer net-work of the vessels, or the delicate 
covering of the nmscles is rudely torn, and the 
would-be athlete is an invalid for life. 

The one-pound or two-pound dumb-bell strains 
nothing : it only adds to the swing of the hands. 
The exercise can be varied so as to develop 
upper and lower limbs and trunk. It is par- 
ticularly adapted to those who are not trained 
athletes. Sav, the arms are thin and weak and 
soft, and you want to increase their size, 
strength, and firmness. There are only a few 
regular motions for this, and they can be learned 
in a minute. The hands, grasping the dumb- 
bells, ai*e hanaino' bv the sides : beirin bv rais- 
ing them, bending the elbow and touching the 
front of the shoulder with the l)all of the thuml) ; 
down again, and up again : that is all. You re- 



loC) ETHICS OF BOXING AXD MANLY SPORT. 

peat this motion twenty times, thirty, on to fifty 
or sixty before you are tired. 

Then stop, — always stop any exercise when it 
tires 3'ou : this is nature's advice. 

But beo'in in a minute or so, and o'o over it 
again. You will probably this time reach seventy. 
Then chancre the motion : extend the arms like a 
cross, on a level with the shoulders, and double in 
from the elbow, alternately, just touching the tips 
of the shoulders with the hands. Keep this up 
till vou are tired, and then 2^0 back to the first 
motion. 

In a week you will be able to raise the hands 
in the first motion hundreds of times, in a few 
weeks a thousand times. 

This means — w^hat? It means that you keep 
the muscles of the arms working actively for from 
a quarter of an hour to an hour ; that the lately 
dried-up blood-vessels are now full of warm bk)od, 
feedino^ the hot muscles as a trench full of water 
feeds a famished field. It means also that the 
girth of the arm is one, two, or more inches 
larger than it was a few weeks ago ; that the flesh 
is firm and solid; and that arm, shoulder, and 
hand are so strong that there is a new pleasure 
even in swinirinsr an umbrella or shakino; hands 
with an old fi'iend. 

Proceed in the same way with the muscles of the 



THE CURSE OF THE CLOSED AVINDOWS. 137 

feet, legs, sides, abdomen, back, and neck; and 
in three months the world and life will have 
almost as new a look and meaning for you as if ^ 
you had been born over again. ( Jli^ai^ ^ ^ ^ ^- 'f' ' 

Any low-priced treatise on athletics Avill teach 
you the motions for the different muscles. 



VIT. 

THE CURSE OF THE CLOSED WIXDOWS. 

Re3IEMBEr, always, it is not the handlmg of 
heavy weights that is beneficial, hut the numher 
of times, you perjorra a motion. The object de- 
sired is to draw the blood to the wasted or unde- 
veloped muscles, and keep it there long enough 
to feed the old, and to form new cells. The 
blood remains in the muscles while they continue 
exercising. 

I dwell on the use of dumb-l)ells because they 
are so handy and so varied in excellence. Dumb- 
bell exercise is in every one's reach. Twenty- 
five cents will buy a pair of two-pound iron 
dumb-bells. You need no gymnasium other than 
any upper room in your house, iritli the v:indov:s 
imde open. Xever exercise with closed windows. 



138 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Reineiiiber that the hirgest vein in your body 
is open at one end ; and it is not filled with blood, 
but air, — your wind-pipe. 

It invites disease to fill your lungs w ith bad 
air, when you breathe heavily under exercise, in- 
halino' all the floatino* threads and dust of a closed 
room. This open vein makes a breathing man 
part of the outer world ; the atmosphere is his 
bellows. This is whv we ouo:ht to love and value 
the country, and hate the city. AVe are truly and 
actually part of the place we live in : its life en- 
ters with every inspiration into our lives. We 
are one Avith the reekins; streets ; with the foul 
exhalations of bar-rooms, w^ith their stale drinks 
and hideous spittoons; of smoke-filled cars; of 
crowded halls; and, again, we are one with the 
fresh mornino; air of the fields ; w^ith the balsam 
of the strong and beautiful pines ; with the sweet 
breathinofs of cattle ; with the w^holesome smell of 
the fresh-duo' earth ; with the fra^'rance of the 
meadows and the hedges and the trees ; with the 
sound-washed atmosphere of the sparkling river. 

Even in a physical sense, the w^ord of the poet 
is true: ''He who has Xature for a companion 
must, in some sense, be ennobled by the inter- 
course.' 

'' You will find," says St. Bernard, '' some- 
thing far greater in the w^ocds than }^ou will find 



THE CURSE OF THE CLOSED WINDOWS. 139 

in books. Stones and trees will teach you tliat 
which you will never learn from masters/' 

''There is no riches above a sound body," says 
Ecclesiasticus, " and no joy above the joy of the 
heart." 

''Life is only life when blessed with health," 
says Martial. 

"It is the misfortune of the young," says Sj^d- 
ney Smith, "to l)e early thrown out of perfect 
tune by the indiscreet efforts of their parents to 
force their minds into action earlier than Nature 
intended. The result is dissonance, want of har- 
mony, and derano'ement of function. The nervous 
system is over-excited, while the physical system 
is neglected. The brain has too much work to 
do, and the bodily organs too little. Tlie mind 
may be fed, but the appetite is lost, and society 
is filled with pale-faced dyspeptics." 

"The ancient Greeks," savs Dr. Samuel Smiles, 
"among their various wisdom, had an almost 
worshipful reverence for the body as being the 
habitation of the soul. They gave their body 
recreation as well as their mind." 

"And what thinkest thou," said Socrates to 
Aristodemus, "of this continual love of life, this 
dread of dissolution, which takes possession of us 
from the moment that we are conscious of exist- 
ence?" — "I think of it," he answered, "as the 



140 ETHICS OF nOXlNG ANO JJANLY SPORT. 

means employed l)y the siime great and wise 
Artist deliberately determined to preserve what 
he has made." 

''If we are asked," says a scientific authority, 
''which of the many necessaries of life is best 
entitled to the chief place we must surely reply, 
oxYixen. This o^as forms about one fifth of the 
bulk of the atmosphere, and our wants are sup- 
plied by the act of l)reathing, so regularly and 
ceaselessly performed by every one. It is pos- 
sible to live for a long time without the protection 
of a house or of clothing ; it is even possible to 
live for many da^^s without food ; I)ut if we are 
deprived for only one or two minutes of oxygen, 
the consequences are serious, and may be fatal. 
Again, oxygen is so closely connected 
with the great vital processes upon which our 
growth and daily energy depend, that food itself 
is useless unless accompanied by a large supply 
of it. Indeed, when the quantity of oxygen 
which a man consumes in his lungs daily is calcu- 
lated, it is found to l)c oTcater in weight than all 
the dry food he requires during the same period. 
Yet, airain, if we wish a house and clothino: and 
food, Ave must work for them : l)ut for oxygen 
there is nothing to pay. It is free to all, and lies 
around us in such abundance that it never runs 
short. Here, then, we see every means taken to 



THE CURSE OF THE CLOSED AVINDOW.s. 141 

insure that all our demands for oxygen shall be 
freely and fully met, and yet we are assured by 
medical authorities that a very large proportion 
— some say one fourth — of all the deaths that 
take place is caused, directly or indirectly, by 
ox\ iren starvation." 

AVhat is the reason that so many must suffer 
and die for want of this endless blessins:, — fresh 
air? The chief reason, answers the same au- 
thority, is city life. Instead of living in the 
countrv, where every household miirht have a 
large, free space of air around it, we draw together, 
for the convenience of business, to great centres. 
There the houses are crowded closely together, 
often piled one on the top of the other, so that, 
instead of an overabundance, there is only a 
limited quantity of air for each. This is made 
untit for the support of life by the very act of 
breathing ; the impurities are increased l)y the 
waste products of manufactories ; and oxygen is 
destroyed by every tire and lauip and gas-light. 
The winds and certain properties of the atmos- 
phere constantly remove much of the impure air, 
and bring in a pure supply ; but the crowding- 
together in many parts of a town is so great, and 
the production of poisonous matter goes on so 
continuously, that instead of each breath contain- 
ing its full proportion of oxygen, the place of 



142 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MAXLY SPORT. 

that gas is taken up to some extent by what is 
actually hurtful to life. AVhen this is the condi- 
tion of the atmosphere outside the dwelling, it is 
necessarily much worse within it, for there the 
displacement of impure air by pure cannot take 
place so rapidly. The consequences are as already 
stated. Large parts of our town populations 
never have sufficient oxygen ; their lives are feeble 
and full of suiFerin<r, and numbers die before their 
time. Such facts are painful to contemplate ; but 
a knowledge of them puts the wise man on his 
guard, and he may do much for hinaself. In the 
choice of a house he will remember the advantaire 
of a great air-space around it, and of plenty of 
space within it, so that bedrooms may not be 
overcrowded. Or, if a large house is beyond his 
means, he will take care that the rooms are not 
crowTled with furniture, for every piece of furni- 
ture excludes an equal bulk of air. When he 
enters the house he will see that at all times as 
much fresh air from the outside is admitted, by 
means of open doors and windows, as can be 
allowed without inconvenience from cold ; and as 
often as possible he will have a blow through, to 
clear out all odd corners where foul air mav 

4/ 

lino'er. ''Pure air and a'ood food make pure 
blood, and only pure blood will give good 
health." 



rOK CITY DWELLEKS AND CHILDREN. 143 



VIII. 

EXERCISE FOR CITY DWELLERS AND SCHOOL 
CHILDREN. 

But let us return to the city and the o:v^m- 
nasiam. 

• Dumb-bells are first-rate. Xext, weights and 
pulleys : you can buy them for two dollars, and 
set them up in any room where }'ou may open the 
window when you want to exercise. They in- 
crease the volume and power of the extensors of 
the shoulder, arm, and forearm, — muscles rarely 
used. 

"There are many troubles which you cannot 
cure by the Bible and the hymn-book," said | 
Henry Ward Beecher ; " 1)ut which you can cure 
by a good perspiration and a breath of fresh air." 

A breath of fresh air! AVhat does it mean? 
It means the country, of course ; but it means the 
city, and your o^vn room, with the windo\v wide 
open, if you cannot get to the country. The air 
is God's ; and He cleans it eyen for the yitiated 
city. 

Most human beings breathe imperfectly ; and 
without good breathing health and strength are 
impossible. 



144 ETHICS OF BOXING AND 3IANLT SPORT. 

''It is estimated," says a recent clever writer 
(H. T. Finck), " that tiiere are from seventy-five 
to one liundred cubic inclies of air icliiclir always 
remain in a man'^s lungs. About an equal amount 
of ' supplemental ' air remains after an ordinary 
expiration ; and only twenty to thirty inches of 
' tidal air,' as Huxley calls it, passes in and out." 

You have seen in a river-bend, wdiere the deep 
water is stairnant, a floatins; I02: lie stationarv for 
weeks and months. It would lie there, in the 
ofreen scum, if let alone, till the freshet came in 
the spring. There is a lot of that kind of still 
air in the lun2:s, waitino: for a freshet — which 
some placid people never experience (these are 
the nice, pallid, delicate dyspeptics). 

The unused and undisturbed air in the luna's, if 
originally breathed in from close and exhausted 
rooms, can become as foul as the sta^rnant river- 
pool. It must be expelled — and how^ ? By deep- 
breatltin/j. 

"There are few persons," says the author of 
"Personal Beauty," " whose health and personal 
appearance would not l)e improved vastly if they 
would take several daily meals of fresh air — con- 
sisting of twenty to fifty deep inspirations — in a 
park or some other place where the air is pure 
and bracinir." 

Deep-breathing is a mighty means of preserv- 



FOH CITY DWELLERS AND CHILDREN. 145 

ino; and restorinof health — indeed, it oua'ht to be 
called the first means. The air is a irreat and 
cheap doctor. 

" The wise for cure on exercise depend; 
God never made His work for man to mend." 

Many leading authorities are of opinion that 
the best way to learn deep-breathing is to inhale 
slowly as much air as you can get into the lungs 
Avithout discomfort, and then exhale again just as 
slowly. A clever phj^sician, however, and one of 
the best athletes in America, told me a better way, 
which I have tried and recommended with unfail- 
ing success. It is to inhale slowly and fully, without 
straininir, and then shoot the air out of the lunsfs 
with a sudden gust, by a collapse of shoulders 
and chest. Then slowly fill the luna's a^^ain 
(through the nostrils), — and gush! out it goes 
(through the mouth) with a sound like a small 
locomotive. In the street, you may be noticeable, 
by the noise, perhaps; but you can get through 
your twenty or thirty puflfs twice a day without 
nuich trouble. 

The effect of this practice is almost incredible. 
Take two or three spells of thirty breaths each 
day for one month ; and you will increase your 
chest-measurement in that time from two to four 
inches ! And this is not like the trainer's in- 
crease ; it is permanent. And, besides, you will 



14() ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

hiivc unconsciously contracted a habit of deep- 
breathinir for the remainder of your life. 

One of the misfortunes of New England is the 
rarity of horseback-riding as an exercise. *' The 
saddle is the seat of health," says Dr. Smiles ; 
"riding may be regarded as the concentrated 
essence of exercise." 

''Who is your doctor?" said some one to 
Carlyle. ''My best doctor," he replied, ''is 
a horse." 

The Puritan finds it hard to believe, thouo'h, 
that "idleness is not all idleness." Cicero said: 
" Xo one seems to me to be free who does not 
sometimes do nothing." And elsewhere he says : 
" There should be a haven to which we could fly 
from time to time, not of sloth and laziness, but 
of moderate and honest leisure." 

Every American, young, middle-aged, ay, and 
old, ouii'ht to take from two to four weeks at 
least, every summer, for rest and sport. Shoot- 
mz-) fishinof, driving tours, walking; tours. AVe 
can all enjoy one or more of these exercises. 
George Stephenson knew the folly of trying to 
take too much out of one's self. When he found 
his friend Lindley exhausted and depressed by 
too excessive application to engineering, he said 
to him : "Now, Lindley, I see what you are after 
— you are trying to get thirty shillings out of 



FOR CITY J)AVELLERS AND CHILDREX. 147 

your pound. My advice to yon is — give it 
up.'' 

Children in school ^^rowino- narrow-chested and 
round-shouldered stooping over desks and books, 
ought to be taught to breathe as well as to read, 
and they ought to l)e kept at it as constantly. 
And prizes and honors ouirht to be aiven to the 
girls and boys who can run l)est, swim best, 
throw the farthest ball, and whose chest-measure- 
ment, taken monthly by the teacher, is largest, 
as well as to those pale-foced students in specta- 
cles, who can demonstrate a prol)lem in Euclid or 
construe Greek at siirht — or rather at half-si<>'ht. 

The examination of the eyes of Boston public- 
school children, l)v a distiniruished oculist, a few 
years asfo, broui>-ht to li^-ht the shockino- fact that 
the vision of the majority was defective. The 
Hygiene Committee of the Boston School Board, 
in a report dated Xov. 22, 1887, said: '^It has 
been settled be} ond question that school-life has 
a damaging effect on the eyesight of children." 

Listen to the cona're2:ation in church on Sunday 
mornina', where there is nothing to divert atten- 
tion. From end to end of the church you will 
hear an endless hacking and wheezing from bron- 
chial tubes in all stages of disease and decay. 
Suppose you had a flock of sheep, and that j^ou 
came on them quietly some day, and heard such a 



148 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

couo'hino: and wheezins; as this of the cono:reo:ation, 
would you not shake your head? And, then, sup- 
pose you learned that the 5^oung ones were grow- 
ing dim-sighted ? What kind of farmer would you 
l)e to go on treating those afflicted sheep on the 
old condition that had caused their injury? 

Plato reprehended a boy for playing at some 
childish o:ame. "'Thou reprovest me," said the 
boy, " for a yery little thino'." — " Custom," said 
Plato, ''is no little thing." 

And not only are we to be (unless we turn to 
athletics for the cure) a race of bald-headed, round- 
shouldered spectacle-wearers, but a race of ugly 
dyspeptics, diyided between lank-sides and pot- 
l)ellies. What, with our horse-cars, crowded on 
))rio'ht days, when every one should walk, with 
our corseted women and o;irls crushino; their 
livers into their abdomen, and their hearts into 
their lunsfs : with our narrow-chested weaklinos 
with quavering stomachs, depending on the deadly 
revival of the cocktail — may the Lord have pity 
on our descendants ! 

Beecher was rio^ht — there are some thins^s you 
cannot learn out of a hymn-book half so well as out 
of a tree. And there are other thino:s you can 
learn better than a precept can teach, out of a 
sallow face, or a red nose, or dull eyes, or 
peevish mouths, and miserable homes. You 



FOR CITY DAVELLERS AND CHILDREN. 149 

can learn, for instance what rum does, what dissi- 
pation does, what self-indulgence does, not only 
on the morals but on the personal appearance. 

Vanity is a moral force as well as a moral weak- 
ness : it depends on the direction and object. 

When you cannot reach a young man's con- 
science by a temperance argument, you may 
reach his vanity by leading him up to a shaky, 
bleary, lying, home-cursing drunkard, and tell 
him that he is beginning to look like that! 

Instead of lecturing a young woman on the 
folly of fashion, tell her, and prove to her, that 
her beauty will l^e murdered ; that her eyes will 
grow dim; that she will die an old maid, sour 
and wrinkled, if she continue to outrage the laws 
of Xature by tying herself in the n^iddle with 
corset-strings like a living blood-pudding. Hor^ 
rible taste I Tell her to open her bed-room win-, 
dow, and let in the part of her that is outside,— ^ 
i\\Q fresh part, the sweet air that belongs to her 
heart, that her poor blood is rotting for. Tell 
her that unless she does these things, and walks 
and breathes and bends like an animal, as she is, 
instead of riding on horse-cars and buggies, and 
mincing on high-heeled shoes that distort her 
feet, and breathing contamination in her hermeti- 
cally-sealed bedroom, she will get wrinkles round 
her toothless mouth, and l)lue circles under her 



150 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

dull eyes, like all the other querulous, ill-tem- 
pered and sour -faced maids and matrons who 
crowd the horse-cars, and Tyony and abuse the 
poor, tired girls in the stores. 

Better burn all the school-books and school - 
houses in America than 2:0 on another half cen- 
turv cono:estin2: the children's brains with memory- 
cramming:, blindino: their sia'ht and crookino; their 
backs with constant study. 

Give us a rest ! Give us time to play while w^e 
are children ; for, God knows, we shall have work 
enough, and too much, as men and women. 

The whole system of American life, from child- 
hood to old aofe, mio'ht have been invented bv a 
distorted mind, bent on deirradino; the natural 
beauty of the human form, and producing a race 
of ugly, weak, near-sighted, selfish, vain, preju- 
diced, ill-tempered, and unwholesome men and 
women. 

"A drunkard is always a liar," says an au- 
thority ; and he might have added that a weak, 
dyspeptic, devitalized man or woman is apt, if not 
certain, to be a shirker, a snarler, a sensualist, a 
sneak, and a coward, or more than one of these. 

And to think of the endless, empty talk, talk, 
talk of the future puling, bald-headed abnormality 
of the cities ! For, with the decay of your real 
man, surely swells the gaseous self-opinion of 



FOR CITY DWELLERS AND CHILDREN. 151 

x'our weakling;. What he loses in stamina, he is 
sure to make up in gab. He will prate correc- 
tion, but do none, either for himself or others. 
He will preach labors and sacrifices he is afraid 
and unable to practise. He will run not only to 
head, but to the sensual centres. Your bis;- 
chested, bright-eyed, large-shouldered athlete is 
never a vile sensualist. It is always your pot- 
bellied, purple-fleshed, dew^ -lapped, soft-handed 
creature, on the one hand, or your pallid, tremu- 
lous, watery-eyed specimen on the other. 

The only use in such men and w^omen is to"" 
manure the earth, to hold a warning up to his- 
tory, and to l)e pushed out of the path of the 
strong races, whom they tempt by their luxury 
to become their conquerors and successors. 

To make the future American all he ought to 
be, physically, mentally, and spiritually, we must 
l)uild gymnasiums as w^ell as schools and churches. 
^Ye must honor the teaching: of health and strenath 
and beauty, as the Greeks did, as well as the teach- 
ini>: of books and sciences. AVe nuist cover our 
incomparable rivers and lakes with canoes and 
lii>:ht outriirsfed l)oats, as we are coverino; our bays 
with white-sailed yachts. AVe must see that every 
square fifty yards of clear ice in winter is covered 
with merry skaters (the best of all exercises for 
developing grace) ; and that the vile rinks for 



152 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

roller-skating, with tlieir atmospheres almost as 
filth V as tlieir morals, are closed or torn down. 

There ought to be a first, second, and third 
prize in every school, public and private, for such 
accomplishments as walking, swimming, running, 
jumping, boxing, and climbing. Our schohirs 
should be tauo'ht to cultivate bodv as well as 
mind ; to breathe as well as to calculate ; to know 
that streno'th is as sure to follow exercise as 
knowledofe to follow studv. Then thev will truly 
know the meaning of the wise man (Johnson), 
w^ho said : '' Such is the constitution of man that 
labor may be said to be its own rew^ard ; " and of 
the eloquent man (Cicero), who said : '' It is ex- 
ercise alone that supports the spirits and keeps 
the mind in viiror." 



IX. 

CORPULENCE, DIET, AND SLEEP. 

''Physic, for the most part, is nothing else 
but the substitute of exercise and temperance," 
says Addison. 

" The only way for a rich man to be healthy is 
by exercise and abstinence, to live as if he were 
poor," says Sir W. Temple. 



CORPULENCE, DIET, AND SLEEP 153 

" A hale cobbler,*' says Beckerstaft', "is better 
than a sick king." 

''In these days," says Bulwer Lyttou, ''half 
our diseases come from the nealect of the )x)dv 
ill the overwork of the l)rain. In this railway 
age the wear and tear of hil)or and intellect go on 
without pause or self-pity. We live longer than 
our forefathers ; l)ut we suffer more from a thou- 
sand artificial anxieties and cares. The}' fatigued 
only the muscles ; we exhaust the finer strength 
of the nerves.'' 

Corpulence is one of the penalties of under- 
exercisino', under-l)reathini>:, over-eatino', and over- 
drinkino'. 

For the reduction of corpulence, the following 
rules (Dr. T. K. Cham1)ers) may l)e observed 
for a three weeks' course : — 

"Else at 7, rub the body Avell with horse-hair gloves, have 
a cold bath, and take a short turn in the open air. Breakfast 
(alone) at 8 or 8.30 on the lean of beef or mutton (cutting off 
the fat and skin), dry toast, biscuit, or oat cake, a tumbler of 
claret and water, or tea without milk or sugar, or made in the 
Russian way with a slice of lemon. Lunch at 1 on bread or 
biscuit, Dutch cheese, salad, water cresses, or roasted apples, 
hung beef or anchovies, or red herring or olives, and similar 
relishes. After eating, drink claret and water, or unsweetened 
lemonade, or plain water, in moderation. Dine at any con- 
venient hour. Avoid soup, fish, or pastry, but eat plain meat 
of any sort, except pork, rejecting the fat and skin. Spinach, 
haricots, or any other green vegetable may be taken, but no 
potatoes, made dishes, or sweets. A jelly, or a lemon-water 



loi ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

ice, or a roast apple, may suffice in their place. Take claret 
and water at dinner, and one glass of sherry or Maderia after- 
wards. Between meals, as a rule, exercise must always he 
taken to the extent of Inducing persi^iration. Running, when 
practicable, is the best form in which to take it. Seven or eight 
pounds is as much as is prudent to lose dui'ing the three weeks. 
If this loss is arrived at sooner, or, indeed, later, the severe 
parlis of the treatment may be gradually omitted; but it is 
strongly recommended to modify the general habits in accord- 
ance with the i^rinciple of taking, as small a quantity as jDOSsible 
of fat and sugar, or of substances which form fat and sugar, 
and sustaining the respiratory function. By this means the 
weight may be gradually reduced for a few months with safety." 

If a man in training, or in every-day life, finds 
that he cannot o-et oft' his fiesh, and so clear his 
wind, with the ordinary routine of exercise, cat 
off his sugar and liis potatoes, just to try how it 
acts. ''With some dio-estions, suo-ar makes no 

O ■'CD 

difference," says W. B. Woodford (''Oars and 
Sculls " ;) with others an ounce or two of sugar in 
a day makes a pound or so of fat, which, l)ut for 
the sugar, would have turned into muscle. The 
four or five lumps, or spoonfuls, that a man would 
take at breakfast and supper would, with sonic 
men, put on more fat in one day than a two-mile 
run would take off*." 

For a more permanent reduction of fat, there 
is nothing that can l)e depended on except a well- 
prescribed regimen, such as that of Banting, who 
reduced his weight forty-six pounds, and his bulk 



CORPULENCE, DIET, AND SLEEP. 155 

over twelve inches round the waist, ''and this 
after having vainly tried all that medical aid could 
do for him." Banting's plan consisted hi abstaining 
as much as possible ''from bread, butter, milk, 
sugar, beer, and potatoes, which had been the 
main (and I thought innocent) elements of my 
existence." At first this looks like sweeping the 
table clean ; but we are reassured by the bill-of- 
fare that remains. " For breakfast," says Mr. 
Bantino:, " I take four or five ounces of beef, 
mutton, kidneys, broiled fish, bacon, or cold 
meat of any kind, except porJ^ ; a large cup of 
tea (without milk or sugar), a little biscuit, or 
some dry toast. For dinner, any fish, except 
salmon, eels, or herrings ; any meat, except pork ; 
any vegetable except potatoes ; some dry toast ; 
fruit out of a pudding ; any kind of poultry or 
game. For tea : fruit, a rusk or two, or toast, 
and tea w^ithout milk or sugar. For supper : 
meat similar to dinner." For alcoholic drinks, 
Mr. Banting only ruled out. champagne, port, 
and beer. 

Undoubtedly this regimen has been successful 
in innumerable cases. Its author, indeed, de- 
clared that it not only reduced his corpulency, 
but cured him of deafness and other ailments.* 

*A specialist writing on corpulence, says: — " A constant 
free indulojence in ve2fetable foods favors the accumulation of 



15G ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Sidney Smith, writing to Lord Murray, said, 
half playfully, " If you wish for anything like 
happiness in the fifth act of life, eat and drink 
about one half of what you could eat and drink. 
Did I ever tell you my calculation about eating 
and drinkino'? Havins: ascertained the w^eiaht of 
what I could live upon so as to preserve my health 
and strength, and what I did live upon, I found 
that, between ten and seventy j^ears of age, I had 
eaten and drank forty horse-wagon loads of meat 
and drink more than would have preserved me in 
life and health ! The value of this mass of nour- 



fat. The same may be said of thick soups, sauces and spices, 
puddings, pies, cakes, all sweets, milk, and even vrater, if 
drunk to excess. Alcoholic and malt liquors are notorious fat- 
producers. The majority of those people who use them contin- 
uously and in considerable quantities, sooner or later show an 
increase in fat. Here a question arises : Is the fat produced 
by alcoholic liquors, such as whiskey, brandy etc., of the same 
character as that put on by malt liquors? It would appear that 
there is a difference. Malt liquors do not degenerate the system 
of the indulger as does alcohol, which has rightly been termed 
' the genius of degeneration.' Malt liquors have nutritive prop- 
erties, and they contribute to bodily support. The beer-drinker 
is fat and florid, and within certain limits his fat is wholesome. 
He has an excess of blood, and suffers from what is known as 
plethora, while the tippler of alcohol, sooner or later, suffers 
from anaemia, or poverty of the blood. The following is a mod- 
ification of the various regimens which have been advised by 
different physicians who have closely studied the disease. 
This list is generally accepted by the profession. 

''Foods which may be eaten: Beef tea, mutton broth. 



CORPULENCE, DIET, AND SLEEP. 157 

ishment I consider to be worth seven thousand 
pounds sterling. It occurred to me that I must, 
by my voracity, have starved to death nearly 
one hundred persons ! This is a frightful calcu- 
lation, but irresistibly true ; and I think, dear 
Murray, your wagons would require an addi- 
tional horse each ! " 

Says Shelley, the poet : — 

"On a natural system of diet, old age would be our last 
and oui' only malady; the term of oiu* existence would be pro- 
tracted; we would enjoy life, and no longer preclude others 
from the enjoyment of it; all sensational delights would be 
infinitely more exquisite and perfect ; the very sense of being 
would then be a continued pleasure, such as we now feel it in 
some fcAv and favored moments of our youth. By all that is 
sacred in our hopes for the human race, I conjure those who 
love happiness and truth to give a fair trial to the vegetable 
system. Reasoning is surely superfluous on a subject whose 
merits an experience of six months would set forever at rest." 



chicken soup, stewed oysters, beef, mutton, veal, ham, eggs in 
any form, game, poultry, and fish of all kinds, onions, celery, 
cresses, cabbage, tomatoes, radishes, squash, turnips, stale 
bread sparingly, toast sparingly, gluten biscuit, only three 
ounces of breadstuff per day. Grapes and oranges are allowed. 
As much water as the system needs should be indulged. On 
this point no rule can be given. Som3 people suffering from 
obesity drink but very little water, less, even, than they actually 
need. They should drink more freely. On the other hand, the 
obese person who makes it a habit of drinking several quarts of 
water a day should lessen the quantity considerably. Tea or 
coffee without milk or sugar is allowed. Sour wines may be 
taken occasionally, but sweet wines are prohibited. If diges- 
tion is reasonably good, none of the articles advised in the fore- 



158 ETHICS OF BOXING AND IMANLY SrORT . 

How to insure sleep has become a matter of 
speculation. Some think early rising is a sover- 
eign remedy. 

" Early to bed, and early to rise, 
Make a man liealthy and wealthy and wise." 

There is no need to prescribe recipes for sleep 
to a healthy, well-exercised man or woman. They 
will fall asleep as naturally as they breathe. But 
many persons, whose constitutions are out of gear, 
adopt artificial methods. Says Dr. Smiles : — 

"One tries to sleep by repeating tlie multiplication table; 
another repeats some bit of well-known poetry. A missionary, 
troubled with sleeplessness, repeated the Lord's Prayer until 
Satan sent him to sleep to get rid of it ; and he says that he 
never found that recipe to fail. Another looks at an imagin- 
ary point, and follows it far off in the distance, thus inducing 
the hypnotism of brain. Some, like Dr. Franklin, believe in 
the air bath, and others in a pillow of hops." 



going will prove burdensome. If there is much dyspepsia, and 
it does not soon disappear under this diet, why, then, the suf- 
ferer must refrain from eating what he knows by experience 
aggravates his trouble. Eat slowly and chew the food thor- 
oughly, is a golden rule for all to follow. 

" To regulate the diet is by no means all a fat person must 
do to become thin. He must exercise freely and judiciously. 
"Walking is good exercise, if one does enough of it and walks 
properly. If he merely samiters along for four or five miles, 
with his hands in his pockets, it will probably do him very 
little good. lie will need to 'make a business' of walking — 
swing his arms, and, in fact, work the whole upper part of his 
body. There is a variety of apparatuses now on sale under the 
names ^ home exercises,' ' noiseless chest weights,' etc. One 



CORPULENCE, DIET, AND SLEEP. 151) 

The following is the method of producing sleep, 
according to Dr. Binns, in his ''Anatomy of 
Sleep " : — 

' How TO Produce Sleep. — Let him turn on his right 
side; place his head comfortably on the pillow, so that it ex- 
actly occupies the angle a line drawn from the head to the 
ehoulder would form; and then, slightly closing his lips, take 
rather a full inspiration, breathing as much as he possibly can 
through the nostrils. This, however, is not absolutely neces- 
sary, as some persons breathe always through their mouths 
during sleep, and rest as sound as those who do not. Having 
taken a full inspiration, the lungs are then to be left to their 
own action; that is, the respiration is neither to be accelerated 
nor retarded. The attention must now be fixed upon the ac- 
tion in which the patient is engaged. He must depict to him- 
s^li that he sees the breath passing from his nostrils in a 
continuous stream; and, the very instant that he brings his 
mind to conceive this apart from all other ideas, consciousness 
and memory depart, imagination slumbers, fancy becomes 
dormant, thought subdued; the sentiment faculties lose their 
susceptibility; the vital or ganglionic system assumes the sov- 
ereignty; and, as we before remarked, he no longer wakes, but 
sleeps. This train of phenomena is but the effect of a moment. 
The instant the mind is brought to the contemplation of a 
single sensation, that instant the sensorium abdicts the throne, 

and the hypnoctic faculty steeps itself in oblivion." 

*^' 

of these can easily be set up in home or office, and very great 
benefit will in a short time follow its use. These contrivances 
are especially adapted to develop the upper part of the body. 
Walk to develop the lower part. If one cannot afford a 'home 
gymnasium,' which costs from six to ten dollars, let him buy a 
cord of wood, and saw on that for half an hour a day; he will 
find himself a much better man physically, as well as mentally, 
in a very short time." 



1()0 ETHICS or BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Another method was that followed by Dr. 
Southey. To James White, he said : 

" Follow my practice of making my last employment in the 
day something unconnected with other pursuits, and you will 
be able to lay your head upon a pillow like a child." 

y^ The late Archbishop Whately, of Dublin, was 
a hard brain-worker, and required a compensating 
amount of sleep. He knew well that the brain 
weakens under continued and protracted labor, 
especially at night. Accordingh^ he adopted a 
method of ensuring sleep and rest. One winter 
day a medical friend accompanied Dr. Field to 
the archbishop's house at Redesdale, Stillorgan. 
The ground was covered with two feet of snow, 
and the thermometer was down almost to zero. 
As the couple of doctors passed they saw an old 
laborino^ man fellino; a tree, while a heavy shower 
of sleet drifted pitilessly in his wrinkled face. 
One of them thought, what a cruel master that 
man must have. The other said, '' That laborer, 
whom you think the victim of prelatical des- 
potism, is no other than the archbishop curing 
himself of a headache. AYhen his Grace has 
been reading and writing more than ordinarily, 
and finds any pain or confusion about the cer- 
ebral organization, he puts both to flight by 
rushins: out with an ax and slashino' awav at some 



HINTS FOR TRAINING AND GOOD HEALTH. 161 

ponderous trunks. As soon as he finds himself 
in a profuse perspiration he gets into bed, wraps 
himself in Limerick blankets, falls into a sound 
slumber and gets up buoyant." 



X. 

HINTS FOR TRAINING ANJ3 GOOD HEALTH. 

Do not run before breakfiist : if you want 
exercise, walk. It is Avell even before a walk to 
take a cup of tea or coffee. 

Before cold bathino- in the mornina', a brisk 
rubbino; down with roua'h orloves or towel will 
increase the pleasure and efficacy of the bath. 
After bathing always a thorough rubbing. (There 
are rough-silk mittens made by George F. Brown, 
of Boston, which are excellent for both wet and 
dry rubbing.) 

Take a Turkish bath once a fortnight. 

Moderation is the secret of o-ood trainino; and 
good health — moderation in exercise, as well as 
in eating, drinking, and sleep. 

Never sleep on a pillow, unless you are sick, 
and it is ordered for some special reason. Nature 
never intended man, or any other animal, in sleep- 



1G2 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

ins: to raise the head hi«:her than the shoulders. 
Pillows interfere with the brcathins:, and weaken 
the muscles of the neck. To sleep without a 
pillow, on a perfectly flat mattress, is the luxury 
of rest, because of the natural position. It soon 
increases the a'irth of the neck from one to two 
inches, by making the neck-muscles stretch and 
fully do their work. It allows the chest to deepen 
its breathing; and it prevents, to a large degree 
wakefulness and snorino;. The discomfort of 
putting away the pillow lasts less than a week, 
and once vou have tasted the delisfht of a free, 
level sleep you will never be induced again to 
double your chin down on your breast, or your 
ear over on your shoulder, by using a pillow. 
All children should be told these reasons, and then 
their pillows should be taken away. A horse's or 
a doir's shoulders are hio-her than a man's ; but he 
who wants to sleep well can learn from those 
animals how the head should be laid. 

Go to bed at ten and get up at seven. 

Open your bedroom window, and, if possible, 
make a drau2:ht throuirh the room, but not across 
your bed. 

Never exercise in a room with closed windows. 

If you have no time for open-air exercise, go 
throuirh various muscular motions with dumb- 
bells in your room, with the windows open, on 



HINTS FOR TRAINING A^D GOOD HEALTH. 163 

rising and before lying down. Open-air exercise 
is not indispensable to health.* 

The te^t of moderation in exercise is fatigue. 
Never to on with anv muscular exercise when 
you are tired. 

A celebrated physician asked an old man, 
remarkable for his health, what regimen he used. 
''I take only one meal a day," he answered. 
''Keep your secret," said the physician; ''if it 
were known and followed, our profession would 
be ruined." 

*Mr. John M. Laflin, of New York, the *' model -man " of 
the Vienna Exposition, is an accomplished athlete, and a cham- 
pion in many lines. For several years he stood in the Paris 
Life School for Gerome and many other famous painters of the 
human figure, and he has drawings made by them which show 
him to be one of the few perfectly-formed men. He is six 
feet two and one-half inches in height, with a forty-six inch 
chest, seventeen -inch biceps, and every muscle of his body 
equally developed. He has given lifelong attention to ath- 
letics. He says : — 

"The best of all-round exercises is rowing. It brings all 
the muscles into play, particularly those least used in 
ordinary light exertion. The sliding seUt proved to be not only 
a good thing for racing, but a great improver of rowing as an 
exercise. It brings the muscles of the legs, loins, stomach, and 
back into better action. For women nothing is so beneficial as 
rowing. 

" Using heavy bells is worse than useless. You can get up 
all the perspiration you want by swinging a one-pound iron in 
each hand in lively fashion for a minute or two. If you do not 
perspire freely, or are subject to pains in the joints or muscles, 
or your circulation is sluggish, you can attach a battery to the 



1(U ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY 8POKT. 

"There is no disease, bodily or mental," says 
Shelley, ''which adoption of vegetable diet and 
pure water has not infallibly mitigated where- 
ever the experiment has been fairly tried." I do 
not recommend a vegetable diet, but these ex- 
periences induce thought on the matter of healthy 
food. 

Eat no rich gravies, nor meat twice cooked ; and 
eat nothing fried that you can have broiled. 

Stupid people say ''sawing wood is good ex- 
ercise." Remember that «:ood exercise must be 

bells. That is a new idea, and a very good one. An electric bat- 
tery of considerable power can be enclosed in a box not much 
bigger than a well-filled pocket-book. This is hung about the 
neck by a cord, so as to fall upon the breast. Two wires con- 
nect it Avitli the dumb-bells, and when the bells are grasped, a 
regulated current passes through the body, starts the circula- 
tion, and wakes one up generally. The wearer can walk 
around the room swinging the arms, striking in any direction^ 
and getting exercise and electricity all at once. If that does 
not start the perspiration nothing will. Another good appara- 
tus, and a cheap one, is a striking-bag. It is easily made. 
Put a ring in the ceiling; tie a stout cord to the ring, and at 
the lower end of the cord fasten a foot-ball, to hang at about 
the height of the chin. To the lower side of the foot-bah 
attach a piece of rubber gas pipe, and make the end fast to a 
ring in the floor. That prevents the ball from flying all about 
the room when struck, and brings it back quickly. Punching 
that foot-ball is pretty lively work, and the best kind of exer- 
cise for a boxer. Then the rubber straps with handles, which 
can be obtained almost anywhere, give a great variety of exer- 
cise, are inexpensive, and take up no room. With such appar- 
atus a man or woman can have a gymnasium at home, and one 



J 



HINTS FOR TRAINING AND GOOD HEALTH. 165 

recreation (re-creation, or renewal of vigor), and 
there is no recreation in sawing wood, or any 
other laborious occupation. 

Eemember that pleasure is a means as w^ell as 
an end. The exercise that has in it the element 
of amusement is ten times as healthy as a listless 
walk. 

Never attempt severe mental or bodily labor 
after a meal. 

If possible take your heavy tasks, mental or 
bodily, in the forenoon. 

hour out of twenty-four devoted to exercise and rubbing, will 
keep anybody in good condition, and make him healthy and 
cheerful, if not wealthy and wise. Swimming is one of the 
best of exercises, but unfortunately the opportunities for indulg- 
ing in the sport are limited. It is good for the arms, legs, back, 
and almost all parts of the frame, and it increases the lung 
power better than anything else. 

"One need not train like an athlete, and a man does not 
require a physique like mine, to be perfectly healthy; but if 
men and women could be kept healthy for a few generations, 
physical development like mine would be the rule, not the 
exception. Mne-tenths of the diseases that now keep the 
doctors busy would be absolutely unknown. No healthy man 
ever got pneumonia, no matter what the exposure. There is 
no case on record of a sailor having pneumonia. This is 
because a sailors lungs are kept in good order by pure air, and 
he gets plenty of exercise. The amount of exercise necessary 
to keep the body in good condition is less than you might sup- 
pose. Fifteen minutes a day, rightly employed, will do won- 
ders. A person ought to exercise a few minutes in the morn- 
ing, and then take a sponge-bath in salted water, followed by 
vigorous rubbing with hair gloves or a coarse towel. The 



106 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Every morning, in the open air, fill the lungs 
twenty times slowly with fresh air (inhaling 
through the nostrils), and expire suddenly 
through the mouth. This will streno:then the 
lungs, renew the resident air, induce a habit of 
deep-breathing, and enlarge the chest. 

The best of all exercises for physical develop- 
ment is all-round glove-boxing, practised with 
skill and temper ; the next best is long swimming, 
with the over-hand stroke and an occasional 
chano-e of hands : then follow these exercises 

movements of the muscles start the impurities to the surface, 
and the bath cleans the pores. The exercise ought to be light. 
I don't believe in exertion that taxes the muscular strength. 
Heenan and all those old-time athletes thought they must use 
hundred-pound dumb-bells and trot around with great lead 
soles on their shoes. That made them hea\^ and slow, and 
exhausted their strength needlessly. One-pound dumb-bells 
are heavy enough for anybody, and Indian clubs should not 
weigh more than four or five pounds at the outside. Gymnasts 
should not use heavy ^^'eights at all. What is needed to 
develope muscle is movement, action — not strain. You don't 
train a trotter by hitching him to a loaded coal-cart, and mak- 
ing him drag that around the track. Hanlan doesn't get into 
a whaleboat for a scull race. The lifting of heavy weights is 
bad for a man, and the men who trained themselves to lift a 
ton killed themselves. Over-training and over-exercising of 
any kind is injurious, and that is why college boat-racing is 
not always a good thing. The weakest man in the boat must 
work too hard. A man is only as strong as his weakest point, 
and you put too much strain on him and he will give away at 
that x^oint. That is why I advocate light exercise for health. 
The exerciser should never get tired." 



HINTS FOR TRAINING AND GOOD HEALTH. 167 

which I place in the order of their excellence : 
river-canoeing (double paddle), shell-rowing, 
hand-ball, lawn-tennis, fencing, walking, and all 
kinds of gymnasium work. 

During exercise, especially in walking, keep 
the abdominal muscles well under the will, so 
that the abdomen may be drawn in, and kept in, 
for any length of time. The abdominal muscle 
is the test of condition. Some people never con- 
trol it ; and from youth to age the belly leads 
the man. When the abdominal muscle gets the 
better of a man, he has said good-by to his 
athletics. 



ANCIENT IRISH ATHLETIC GAMES, 
EXERCISES, AND WEAPONS. 



THE MUSEUM OF THE ROYAL IRISH ACADEMY, 

DUBLIX. 

The gladiatorial shows of Rome had corrupted 
and brutalized the world, for, with the exception 
of Ireland, the entire Western world was within 
the Eoman Empire. After Italy, the countries 
most famous for their amphitheatres, were Gaul 
(France), North Africa, and Spain. 

To the honor of Greece, it was the only Roman 
province where the brutalities of the arena were 
never shown or permitted. 

In ancient as in modern times, the Irish, as a 
nation, were devoted to athletic games and skill 
with weapons, and had won extraordinary distinc- 
tion for feats of arms, ao'ilitv, and streno:th.* 

* Professor Forbes, of the University of Edinburgli, some 
years ago instituted an extensive series of observations of the 
size and strength of the students attending the University. He 
foimd that tlie Irish students were the tallest and strongest 
men. Professor Quetelet, of the University of Brussels, insti- 
tuted similar investigations, covering a number of years, testing 

(169) 



170 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

The games and athletic exercises of ancient 
Ireland ouo;ht to have a laro;e volume devoted to 
them. They are unlike those of all other nations, 
though least unlike those of Greece. They pos- 
sess extraordinary archaeological and ethnological 
value. 

It is sincerely to be hoped that some student 
of Irish antiquities will soon follow in the 
lighted footsteps of Prof. Eugene O'Curry, Dr. 
O'Donovan, and Sir William Wilde. 

the quality of Belgians, Englislimen, Scotclimen, and Irislnnen. 
He found the average height of the Belgian to be sixty-eight 
inches, of the Englishman sixty-eight and one half, of the 
Scotchman sixty-nine, and of the Irishman seventy inches; 
that the average weight in pounds of the Belgian was one hun- 
dred and fifty pounds, of the Englishman one hundred and 
fifty-one, of the Scotchman one hundred and fifty-two, and of 
the Irishman one hundred and fifty- five pounds; and that the 
average strength as indicated by a blow given to the plate of a 
spring dynamometer, in pounds, was, of the Belgian, three 
hundred and thirty-nine pomids, of the Englishman four hun- 
dred and three pounds, of the Scotchman, four hundred and 
twenty-three pounds, and of the Irishman, four hundred and 
thirty-two pounds. 

"The Irish are thus," says Sir Robert Kane, L.L.D., "the 
tallest, strongest, and heaviest of the four races." And Sir 
Robert Kane adds, "Mr. Field, an eminent mechanical engi- 
neer of London, had occasion to examine the relative powers 
of British and Irish laborers to raise weights by means of a 
crane. He communicated his results to the Institute of Civil 
Engineers in London. He found that the utmost efforts of a 
man, lifting at the rate of one foot per minute, ranged in 
Englishmen from eleven thousand five hundred and five to 



MUSEUM OF THE ROYAL IRISH ACADEMY. 171 

O'Curry's great work " On the Mariners and 
Customs of the Ancient Irish " is a mine of infor- 
mation for the archaeological scholars of all times 
and nations ; as are the works of Dr. Petrie, 
Prof. Sullivan, Dr. P. W, Joyce, Lady Wilde, 
Prof. AVhitley Stokes, and others. 

It may be well to say here that a wonderfully 
interesting collection of the ancient weapons, 
mentioned in this article, may be seen in Ireland. 

twenty- foui" thousand two hundred and fifty-five pounds, 
and in Irishmen from seventeen thousand three hundred and 
twenty-five to twenty-seven thousand five hundred and sixty- 
two pounds. I have no reason to doubt that these figures rep- 
resent the existing conditions of these respective populations. 
Those experiments were carefully made at the time, and the 
results were as given." 

Sir John Davies, an eminent Englishman, who was Attor- 
ney-General of Ireland in 1616, in his " Historical Tracts," 
says, " The bodies and minds of the Irish people are imbued 
with extraordinary abilities by nature." 

At the present day the most famous athletes of the world 
are of Irish birth or extraction. They hold the highest places 
on record in almost every branch of athletic sport, both ama- 
teur and i)rofe3sional. Bicycle-riding alone seems to be the 
athletic exercise least attractive to men of the Irish race, at 
least in America; though Con. Dwyer, an Irishman, is the 
champion amateur bicycle -rider of all the Australasian 
colonies. 

In swimming, for one hundred and five hundred yards, 
J. Haggerty, an Irishman, beat Chas. Beckwith in London, in 
May, 1887, and won the world's championship. The best 
under- water swimmer in the world is T. W. Keilly, who won 
the championship at Stockport, England, in July, 1887; in 



172 ETHICS OF BOXIXCI AND MAXLY SPORT. 

Sir AMlliam AVilde sra^s : '^The laro-est, most 
varied, most highly-decorated collection of bronze 
weapons existing is to be found in our museum 
[Royal Irish Academy, Dublin], along with 
numerous specimens of the moulds in \\hich they 
were cast, discovered on the very spot where the 
ancient workman had lit his furnace." 

America, the three best swimmers are T. Riley, R. P. Magee, 
and C. Dunlevy. 

Edward Hanlan, an Irish- Canadian, of Toronto, was the 
sculling champion of the world, till he was beaten in Australia 
in November, 1887, by W. Beach, an Irish- Australian. 

In coUar-and-elbow wrestling, J. H. McLaughlin is the 
champion of the United States; and in Grseco-Roman wrest- 
ling, the United States championship is disputed by Wm. Mul- 
doon and Denis Gallagher; while John Connor who held the 
championship of the Australian Colonies, yielded it up in May, 
1887, to T. Cannon, another Irish-Australian. 

The champion high-jumper of Australia is J. W. Byrne, 
who also holds the record for the hop-step- and -jump (forty- 
three feet eight and one-half inches) ; but the champion of the 
world for a hop-step-and-jump is J. Purcell, of Ireland, who, at 
Limerick, in June, 1887, cleared forty-eight feet three inches. 
On the same ground, September, 1887, J. S. Mitchell threw the 
sixteen-pound hammer one hundred and twenty-four feet and 
one half inch, the best amateur throw ever made. He also 
tljrew the fifty-six-pound hammer thirteen feet and one half 
inch high. 

The Shamrock Lacrosse Club, all Irish-Canadians, holds the 
championship of Canada for years past. 

The hand-ball championship of the world is held by Phil. 
Casey, of Brooklyn, N. Y., who beat the former champion, J. 
Lawler, of Dublin, Ireland, in August, 1887. 

G. Tracy, of Halifax, is champion amateur half-mile runner 



MUSEUM OF THE KOYAL IRISH ACADEMY. 173 

This effectively disposes of the verdict of Pro- 
fessor Lindenschmidt, of Mayence, who asserted, 
in one of his earlier works, that " all the bronze 
articles found north of the Alps were imported 
from Etruria." 

Again, says Sir William Wilde ('' Ancient 
Races of Ireland") : ''Ireland possesses not only 
the largest native collection of metal weapon- 

of Canada (Halifax, 1887, two minutes one and three-fifths 
seconds). 

In boxing, there is no need to say that the Irish race has the 
best men in the world. John L. Sullivan is the heavy-weight 
champion of the world. Jem Smith, an Anglo-Irishman, is 
the heavy-weight champion of England, and next to him is 
Charles Mitchell, also of Irish parents. In America, John, or 
"Jake," Kilrain stands next to Sullivan, and John Dempsey 
is the middle-weight champion of the world. Jem Carney, an 
Anglo-Irishman, is the light-weight champion of the world. 

Among the greatest walkers, for speed and distance ever 
known in America, are Daniel O'Leary, John Ennis, and 
Patrick Fitzgerald. The champion walker of Australia, Scott, 
is an Irishman. Lawrence Foley, an Irishman, is the cham- 
pion heavy- Aveight boxer of Australia; and Irish- Australians 
are the leading athletes in cricket, foot-ball, and rowing clubs. 
The best runner Australia ever had. Bob Watson, was an Irish- 
man; and among the most famous professional oarsmen of 
Australia are the names of Ilickey, Punch, Rush, Clifford, and 
Matheson, all Irishmen, or sons of Irishmen. 

Among base-ball players of the highest order in America, 
the names of Irish- Americans have the foremost places, and 
they are too numerous to mention. Michael J. Kelly is the 
leading player of America. There is, in fact, no branch of 
athletics in which Irishmen, or the sons of Irishmen, do not 
hold the first places against all the world. 



174 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

tools, usually denominated 'celts/ of any country 
in the world, but the second largest amount of 
swords and battle-axes. And, moreover, these, 
and all the other ancient metal articles of Ireland, 
show a well-defined rise and development from 
the simplest and rudest form in size and use to 
that of the most elaborately constructed and the 
most beautifully adorned." 

The time is approaching when this marvellous 
collection of antiquities will be a centre of world- 
interest, especially to those of Irish or Celtic 
extraction. An Irish-American traveller from 
Boston, last year, a scholar and observer, declared 
on his return that the most interestins: and in- 
structive day he had spent in any European 
country was that on which he had visited the 
Museum of the Eoyal Irish Academy. 



II. 

THE MOST ANCIENT WEAPONS USED IN IRELAND. 

The weapons and armor of the ancient Irish 
were, in the main, like those of the Greeks, with 
a greater variety in the length and shape of both 
spear and sword. 

"In the year of the world 4465," translating 



ANCIENT AVEAPONS USED IN IRELAND. 175 

from the ''Book of Leinster," " died the monarch 
Luo'haidh Laio'hiie, of the line of Eber, after a 
reign of seven years. He was the first that made 
bronze and bronze spears in Erinn." 

''The stone man," says Prof. W. K. Sullivan, 
Ph.D., Secretary of the Royal Irish Academy, 
" appeared before the bronze man, and the latter 
before the iron man. Wherever a bronze spear, 
or other implement of the same nature, was found, 
a Celt had passed there ; an iron weapon was a 
sure mark of the footsteps of an Anglo-Saxon, or 
some other branch of the great Teutonic stem." 

Without entering on the rich question of the 
analyses of bronzes, it is enough to state that 
ancient weapons of true bronze, and of bronzes 
more or less mixed with tin and lead, have been 
found in Ireland in great abundance. The spears 
of the Tuatha De Danann (1200 b. c), however, 
are described as " sharp, thin, and hard," which, 
probably, means that they were of iron. 

From the earliest records, relatino: to the bat- 
ties between the Firbolgs (Ireland's primitive 
people) and the Tuatha De Danann (the battle of 
Magh Tuireadh, between the Firbolgs and the 
Tuatha De Danann, was fought b. c. 1272), we 
learn that the accoutrements of a Fu^bolg warrior 
going to the field were "a hooked shield"; two 
craisechs^ or thick-handled spears, for thrusting ; 



17G ETHIC8 OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 



a sword ; a club, or mace (see page 
191); and a square helmet; while a 
chief of the Tuatha De Danann used a 
shield, a sword, and two spears. 

The craisech of the Firbolg was a 
pointless spear, rounded and sharpened 
on the ivowt^Age, and fastened toks])ole 
by rivets. The spear of the Tuatha De 
Danann was " thin-pointed and sharp," 
and the sword '"hard and sharp." 

Whence the Tuatha De Danann came 
to Ireland has not been settled. They 
were a highly-civilized people. They 

conquered the Fir- 
bolo:s, and ruled Ire- 
land for two cen- 
turies, till conquered 
in their turn by the 
jNIilesians, who came 
from Spain. (An- 
cient Irish annalists 
call them Scythians.) 
All these weapons 
were made of fine 
bronze, as were all 
the weapons of the 
Irish down to about 





No. 1. 
FIRBOLG CRAISECH, 



the Christian era. 



>o. 

1) 



ANCIENT WEAPONS USED IN IKELAND. 177 

The ancient Irish, also, used slighter, pointed 
spears (the slegli and the laighin) for both thrust- 
ing and throwing ; some splendid bronze speci- 
mens of these are preserved in the Museum of 
the Eoyal Irish Academy. 




No. 3. —BRONZE SWORD. 

(Similar weapon used by ancient Romans, Scandinavians and Irish.) 

The weapons mentioned as having been used in 
the first battle of ]Magh Tuireadh (b. c. 1272) are 
the craisech^ or pointless spear; the fiarlanna^ or 
curved, pointless blade (see Xo. 31, page 209) ; 
swords and maces ; the nianais^ or broad thrust- 
ing spear (see pp. 18 G, 187 and 217) ; the slegli, or 
pointed casting-spear (see pages 2'2Q and 227). 
Later, we find the foglia, or short spear; the 
saighead'holg , or belly-dart ; and the lic-tailme^ 
or sling-stone (see page 196). 

Besides this latter curious missile (doubtless 
exactly like that with which David killed Goliath), 
the Irish used a round stone for throwing, which 
they carried in a strap inside their shields. 

In the year b. c. 307 there was added ''the 
broad green spear," undoubtedly of green bronze 
(see Xo. 32, page 216) ; and in b. c. 123, at 
the battle of Ath Comair, we find the lia lamlia 
laich, or champion's hand-stone. (See next page. ) 



178 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 



' ' It is remarkable,'' savs 
Professor O'Currv, ''that 
in none of the more an- 
cient historical or romantic 
tracts of Ireland is there 
any allusion whatever to 
bows and arrows ; and what 
is more remarkal)le and im- 
portant, there is no model 
found for them amons; the 
other stone and metal weap- 
ons which have come down 
from the ancient times, 
either in Erinn or any of 
the neio^hborino' countries. 
No barbed instrument in 
ordinary stone or bronze 
has yet been discovered ; 
nor has there been ever 
found in Erinn, as far as 
we know, a flint arrow- 
head in company with any 
one or more bronze spears, 
or CHAMPION'S HAND-sToxE. darts, or swords." 
The sword, spear, javelin, and shield continued 
in use in Ireland for at least two thousand years. 
They were the only weapons of offence and de- 
fence in St. Patrick's time (a. d. 432), and they 
were the arms of the Irish in the Danish Invasion 




No. 4. 

LIA LAMHA LAICH, 



ANCIENT WEAPONS USED IN IRELAND. 179 



(about the year 820), when the first 
notice is made of the use of battle-axes 
and bows and arrows in IreUmd. 

Chaucer bears witness that the Irish 



No. 5 No. 6. No. 7. 

TTATHA DE DAXANN SWORDS.— Described as " hard and sharp." 

allies of Bruce, on the fiekl of Bannockburn 
(a. D. 1314), knew the use of bow and arrow, 
for, in apology for the English defeat, he writes : 

"To the Scots we would not yield, 
But Irish bowmen swept the field." 



180 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

A veiy interesting Irish ^\eapon, specimens of 
which are found in areat abundance all over the 
country, in stone and bronze, is commonly called 
a " celt," or " palstave." This weapon was obvi- 
ously a battle-axe, — though it is not easy to find 





No. 8. No. 9. 

BEONZE BATTLE-AXES, CALLED "CELTS.". 

the manner of fastening the handle to those with- 
out eyes, — while again, others have a straight 
socket, as if they had been used as spear-heads. 
These latter (Xos. 13, 14, and 15, p. 182) are 
probably Tuatha de Danann weapons, while the 
others (Xos. 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, and 16, pp. 180, 
181, and 183) are of Firbolg origin. 



ANCIEXT AVEAPONS USED IX IKELAXD. 181 

The axes Xos. 11 and 12 (page 181), represent 
the weapon called a ^'palstave," by British anti- 
quarians, and apaalstab, by German writers; but 
this is certainly wrong, as the name implies a 
pointed instrument, and not an axe. The old 
^ox^Q pdlstafir was a harpoon, 





Xo. 10. Xo. 11. Xo. 12. 

BRONZE BATTLE-AXES, OR " CELTS." 

Figures 8 to 16 embrace all the forms of battle- 
axe used in ancient Ireland, except the spardha, 
which was a spear and axe combined, and closely 
resembled the piked axe of the last two centuries. 

The royal seal on page 184 (Xo. 17) is interest- 



182 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

ino; on several accounts besides that for which it 
is used here, which is merely the shape of the 
king's sword. It will he seen that this weapon 
corresponds in blade with the ancient bronze 
sword (Xo. 3, page 177), and with the still 
more ancient blades of the Tuatha De Danann 






No. 13. No. 14. No. 15. 

BRONZE BATTLE-AXES, OR ''CELTS." 

(Nos. 5, 6, and 7, page 179). The latter swords, 
judging from the rivet-holes, had, probabl}^, cross- 
hilts. 

The history of this antique seal is very interest- 
ino'. The folio wino- from the ' ' Proceedinos of 
the Royal Irish Academy," Vol. lY., pp. 484-5 
(25th February, 1850), will suffice : — 



" Sir William Betham exhibited an impression of an ancient 
seal, lately found near Beverley, in Yorkshire, on which is rep- 



ANCIEXT AVEAPONS USED IN IRELAND, 



183 



resented a mounted cavalier, with a very long sword drawn in 
his hand, round which is the following inscription : — 

*S. BRIEX REGIS. DE KENEL. EOGAIN.' 




!ll525E:riMii 



Xo. 16. 
FIRBOLG BATTLE-AXE.— Bronze. 



"Brian O'Xeill was King of Cineal Eoghain (Kinel Owen, 
or Tyrone) from a. d. 1241 to 1260, when, along with many 
others of the Irish chieftians, he was slain in the battle of 



184 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AXD MAXLY SPORT. 

Druim Dearg (i.e., of the Reel Hill, or Ridge, now Down). 
His head was cut off, and s^nt to England to King Henry III. ; 
and probably this seal fell into the hands of the English vic- 
tors, who carried it to England, and this accounts for its being 
found in Yorkshire." 




Xo. IT. 

AVCIEXT IRISH SEAL. 

Found in Yorkshire, England. 



Sir Eicliard Cox, in his '^Hibernia Ano^licana" 
(p. 69), states that tliis Imttle was fought in the 
streets of Down. His words are : " Many of the 
Irish chiefs were sUiin, namely, Brian O'Neill, the 
chief of Ireland [Macgeoghan's translation calls 
him liing of the Irish of Ireland'] , and fifteen 
chiefs of the family of O'Cathain (O'Kane) were 
slam on the field." 



THE AVKAPOjS-IEATS OF CUCHULLIN. 185 



III. 

THE WEAPOX-FEATS OF CUCHULLIX. 

CucHULLix, or Cuchiillain (literally the hound 
of ChuUin), was the renowned champion of his 
tmie (a. m. 4480). He was not only the ablest 
soldier, but the best hurler in Ireland ; and after 
his visit to a famous war-college in Alba, or 
Scotland, the head of which was, strange to 
say, a woman, named Scathach, he became the 
greatest ''all-round" athlete in the Celtic world. 
Scathach taught him various feats (^cleasa) of 
championship, which are thus enumerated in a 
very ancient Gaelic tale called " The Courtship of 
Emer, and the Education of Cuchullain : " 

^'Ubhall-cleas, the ball-feat; faebhar-deas, the small, sharp- 
edged shield-feat; Torand-cleas, the thunder-feat, which was 
performed with the war- chariot; faen-cleas, the prostrate feat, 
which I cannot explain; cleas-clitenech^ the dart-feat; ted-cleas, 
the rope-feat; the cleas-cait, the cat-feat, of which I know 
nothing; the corlecJi n-errld, or champions salmon-sault or 
leap; the imarchor n-delend, or proper carrying of the chariot- 
eer's whip; the leim-dar-n-eimh, the leap over a fence (?); the 
filliud erred nair, the whirl of a vahant champion; the gae- 
bolga, or feat of throwing the belly-dart; the bai-braisse^ liter- 
ally sudden death (?); the roth-cleas, wheel-feat, something like 
casting the sledge of the present day; the othar-cleas, invali- 



186 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

dating feat, as well as I can understand the term; the cleasfor 
analaiUi, literally 'the feat of the breathings;' the hruid-gine^ 



No. 18. No. 10. 

MANAIS — BEAUTIFIL BROXZE SPEARS, TUATHA DE DANANX. 

(See page 177.) 

literally * gnashing of the mouth,' as well as I can understand 
it; the sian-cauradh, or champion's war-whoop; the heim co 



THE WEAPON-FEATS OF CUCHULLIX, 



187 



famits, cutting off an opponent's hair with the sword; the 
taith-beim, 'vertical stroke,' which fixed an antagonist to the 
ground; thefodh-beim, ' sod-blow,' by which the sod was cut, in 
contempt, from under the feet of an antagonist by a stroke of 
the sword [hence, undoubtedly, the common Irish phrase, "cut- 
ting the ground from under his feet"] ; the dreimfri foghuist, 






So. 20. 



No. 21. 



No. 22. 



MAXAIS — TUATHA DE DANANN SPEARS, BRONZE. 

(See page 177.) 

climbing a rock; thefonaldhm niadlifor rinnibh slegh, 'coiling 
of a champion around the blades of upright spears ; ' and the 
carbad-searj'dha, the feat of the armed or scythed war- 
chariot." 



Surely, the man who " held the record," in 
modern sporting parlance, for all these feats, de- 



188 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

served to be called the champion of Ireland. 
The Gaelic tale from which this detail is taken, 
also states that the feats of championship which 
distinguished the Knights of Emania (the ancient 
capital city of Ulster, where stood the majestic 
Craehh'Rhuadh, or House of the Eoyal Branch) 
were limited to three, namely : the feat with 
darts, the feat with balls, and the feat with edged 
weapons, {fcehhar-deas) such as knives, swords, 
and sharp-edged shields. 

Many, if not all, of these feats, were not re- 
garded as feats of arms intended for actual use in 
comlxat, but were merely ornamental accomplish- 
ments and proofs of skill. 

In the Brehon Laws (the great Celtic code 
observed by the Irish people from the earliest 
historical days down to the year 1600) is particu- 
larly enacted the education of the different social 
classes, under the law of " Fosterage and Tutor- 
age " ; and here we learn that the sons of kings 
and chiefs were taught " riding, swimming, chess, 
draughts, or backgammon ; with the use of the 
sword, spear, and all other weapons offensive and 
defensive." 



MILITARY ATHLETES OF IRELAND. 189 



IV. 

MILITARY ATHLETES OF ANCIENT IRELAND. 

There is no reliable authority for the existence 
of any national military organization or profession 
of fio:htino;-men in Ireland, other than chiefs, 
down to the reio*n of Conn '' of the hundred 
battles," who w^as monarch at Tara from a. d. 
123 to 157, in which year he was slain. Still, 
it is stated that Conn himself came to the throne 
from the command of the celebrated national 
militia, popularly know^n as the Fianna Eireann^ 
of w^hom Finn Mac Cumhaill, and his father, 
Cumhall, were the most famous commanders. 

This militia of ancient Ireland is highly inter- 
esting in the history of athletics. Its members 
w^ere tested athletes to a man, and their prepara- 
tion and competition for enlistment were most 
arduous and remarkable. 

The name Fianna (hence the modern Fenians) 
is explained in an antique glossary preserved in a 
volume of Brehon Laws, This is the translation 
from the Gaelic : — 

'^ Fianna, a Venatione, id est. It was from the hunting 
which they practised they were so named. Or, Fianna, that is 



190 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

fineadha (families) because it was in tribes they were formed. 
Or, Jianna, that is feinneadha (champions) because they were 
the champions of the Monarch of Erinn." 

In a poem, written in Gaelic, by a bard named 
Cineadh O'Hartaaan, in 975 a. d., while the 
remains of the royal palace at Tara were still 
distinct and intact, and while the written history 
of that famous hill was still clear and a])undant, 
there is a description of a spacious barrack, at 
Tara, where seventy-five hundred of the Fianna 
were lodired. 

The following' are the stanzas of this most curi- 
ous poem, which refer to the barrack at Tara : — 

'' Tlie great house of tliousands of soldiers, — 
To generations it was widely known ; 
A beautiful fortress of brave men ; 
Seven hundred feet was its length. 

It was not filled with the foolish and ignorant, 
Nor over-crowded with the wily and arrogant; 
It was a large work to plan its divisions : 
8ix times five cubits was its height. 

The King had his place there, the King of Erinn. 
Around whom the fairest wine was distributed. 
It was a fortress, a castle, a wonder; 
There were three times fifty compartments in it. 

Three times fifty champions with swords 
(No weak defence for a fortress). 
That was the number, among the wonders, 
Which occupied each compartment.'' 

The whole of this hio:hlv interestinsr poem is 



MILITARY ATHLETES OF IRELAND. 191 

published in Dr. Petrie's ''Antiquities of Tara," 
a work that ought to be found in all our large 
American libraries. 

In A. D. 1024, died a poet named Cuan O'Loth- 
chain, who had also written about the great 




No. 23. 
BRO>^ZE MACE. (See page 176. 

barrack at Tara. Here is the stanza relatinof to 
it: — 

"I speak farther of the fortress of the champions; 

(Which was also called the fortress of foolish women) ; 
The house of the champions was not a weak one, 
With its fourteen opening doors." 

The best account of the Fianna Eireann is 
given by the Rev. Dr. Geoffrey Keating, in his 



192 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

well-known abstract of the History of Ireland, 
(written in the native Gaelic, about the year 
1630, and translated into En^^lish about one 
hundred and thirty years ago). 

Dr. Keatino^ had before him numerous invalua- 
ble Irish records and books of great antiquity, 
many of which have since been destroyed or carried 
ofl* by the English conquerors, whose policy has 
always been to obliterate every record of Ireland's 
national 2:reatness and ancient culture, and cast 
discredit and ridicule on what could not be con- 
troverted. I may here quote a striking para- 
graph from Prof. O'Curry's work on '*Thc 
Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish." (Vol. 
2, page 354) : — 

"It is very unfortunate that the important poem here 
referred to [an ancient GaeUc poem mentioned in the ' Ogygia,' 
describing an Irisli school of war in tlie tliird century] is not to 
be found in any of tlie MS. collections knoAvn to us ; it is only 
known to exist among those locked up in England in the cus- 
tody of Lord Ashburnham, by whom Irish scholars are not per- 
mitted to examine treasures properly belonging to our own peo- 
ple ; but the legal ownership of which is at present, unhappily 
vested in a stranger, unsympathizing alike with our pursuits as 
Irishmen, and with those of the literary world at large. In this 
poem there is, probably, much calculated to throw light on the 
subject of education in ancient Erinn." 

Prof. O'Curry's work was published in London 
in 1873; and this precious Irish MS., locked up 
by an ignorant English lord, has never seen the 
light to this day. 



MILITARY ATHLETES OF IRELAND. 193 

Dr. Keating wrote from books existing in his 
time. He says, quoting from the " Leahhar-na-h- 
Ua Ohongbhala;' or " Book of Xavan' ' : 

"The :Moiiarcli of Erinn (Comiac MacAirt) appointed an 
army over the men of Erinn, and over it he appointed three 
times fifty royal Feinian officers, and he gave the command 
of the vrhole and the High Stevv^ardship of Erinn to Finn Ua 
Baiscne." 

The Fianna had a fixed stipend ; but from May 
to November they had to support themselves by 
hunting. Their life was one of extreme absti- 
nence and exercise. Their duty in peace times 
was that of a national police : ^'to check thieves, 
to enforce the payment of taxes, to check outlaws, 
and all other evils which may affect the country.'' 

After a long chase, before eating, they invari- 
ably bathed, ''and then began to supply their 
sinews and thews (by gentle exercise), until they 
had in this manner put off from them their fatigue, 
after which they ate their meal." 

There were several conditions which every man 
who was received into the Fianna was oblio-ed to 
fulfill:— . ^ 

'^The first condition was, that he should not accept any 
fortune with a wife, but select her for her moral conduct and 
her accomplishments. 

I' The second was, that he should noc insult any woman. 

'' The third was, that he should not refuse any person ask- 
ing for food. 



194 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

" The fourth was, that he should not turn his back on (that 
is, fly from) any less than nine foemen." 

"Additional conditions Finn Mac Cumhaill attached to the 
military degrees, which every man was obliged to accept before 
he was received into the Fianna. 

" The first was, that no person was admitted into them at the 
great meetings of Uisneach, nor at the fair of Tailten, nor at 
the feast of Tara, until his father and mother and relatives 
gave security that they would never avenge his death on 
another person, in order that he should not expect any one to 
avenge him but himself, and no matter what evils he might 
commit, that his friends were not to be sued for them. 

"The second condition was, that candidates should have 
read the Twelve Books of Philosophy, or Poetry. 

" The third condition was, that no man was received into 
the Fianna until a wide pit had been dug for him, in which he 
was to stand up to his knees, with his shield in one hand, and 
a hazel stake, the length of the champion's arm, in the other. 
Nine warriors armed with nine slejlis (or spears), came to within 
the distance of nine ridges (of ground) of him, and these used 
to throw their nine spears all at once at him; and should he be 
wounded despite the shield and the hazel staff, he was not 
received into the order of the Fianna. 

*' The fourth condition, no man was received into the Fianna 
until his hair was first plaited, and until he was then chased by 
selected runners through a forest, the distance between them at 
the start being but one tree. If they came up with him, he 
could not be taken into the Fianna. 

" The fifth condition, no man was received into the Fianna if 
the weapons trembled in his hands. 

" The sixth condition, no man was received into the Fianna 
if a single braid of his hair had been loosened out of its plait 
by a branch in the wood (as he ran through it). 

" The seventh condition, no man was received into the 
Fianna whose foot had broken a withered branch in his course. 
(This to insure light and watchful runners.) 

*' The eighth condition, no man was received into the Fianna 



THE CHIEF GAME OF ANCIENT IRELAND. 195 

unless he could jump over (the branch of) a tree as high as his 
head, and stoop under one as low as his knee, through the 
agility of his body. 

'' The ninth condition, no man was received into the Fianna 
unless he could pluck a thorn out of his heel with his hand 
without coming to a stand. 

*' The tenth condition, no man was received into the Fianna 
until he had first sworn fidelity and obedience to the king (or 
commander) of the Fianna." 

This famous body of military athletes continued 
to be the national guard of Ireland till they were 
annihilated, at the battle of Gabhra, by Cairbre 
and his forces, a. d. 284. 



HURLING : THE CHIEF GAME OF ANCIENT 
IRELAND. 

The chief game, or sport, of the ancient Irish 
was hurling. For over a century past, even this 
game, and others, like football, wrestling, boxing, 
etc., have been discountenanced by the English 
rulers, whose object has ever been to unman and 
deo:rade Irishmen until i<rnorance of conflict, even 
in sport, had robbed them of self-confidence and 
fitted them for the position of hopeless subjection 
designed for them. But within a few years, all 



196 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

over Ireland, the ancient crames have been re- 
vived ; and now there is a hurling club in almost 
every parish in Ireland. 

Tailten and Carman (now Wexford, or near 
the present town of AVexford) were the two prin- 
cipal places in ancient Ireland most celebrated 
for games. 





No. 24. 

STUIC, oil IRISH WAR-HORN. 



No. 25. 
LIC-TAILME, OR SLING-STONE. 



(See page 177.) 

Hurling, iomain (pronounced wnnan)^ was the 
great out -door game of the ancient Irish, /o- 
manu'idhe (pronounced iomawnee) was the hurler, 
or driver ; for it signifies that, also. The goal was 
called haire (pronounced as spelled). The hurl 



THE CHIEF GAME OF ANCIENT IRELAND. 197 

was caman (pronounced as spelled ; the a long) . 
All through ancient Gaelic literature there is con- 
stant mention of hurling. 

The following is a description of a game of 
hurling, from one of the best of the Ossianic tales, 
''The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne,'' trans- 
lated and published in Dublin, in 1880, by the 
Society for the Preservation of the Irish Lan- 
guage : — 

*' There arose a dispute between two women of tlie Tuatlia 
De Danann, that is, Aoife, the daughter of Mananan, and 
Aine, the other daughter of Mananan, the son of Lear, viz. : 
Aoife had become enamoured of the son of Lughaidh, that is, 
sister's son to Fionn Mac Cumhaill, and Aine had become 
enamoured of Lear, of Lith Fliionnchaidh^ so that each woman 
of them said that her own man was a better hurler than the 
other; and tlie fruit of tlie dispute was that a great goaling 
match was set in order between tlie Tuatlia De Danann and 
the Fenians of Erin, and the place where the goal was played 
was on a fair plain by Loch Lein, of the rough pools. 

" The Fenians of Erin and Tuatlia De Danann answered 
that try St e. . . . We, the Fenians of Erin, and they were for 
the space of three days and three nights playing the goal from 
Garbhabha na bh-Fiann, which is called Leamhaw, to Crom- 
ghleann na bh-Fiann, which is called Gleann Fleisge now; and 
neither (party) of us won a goal. Xow (the whole of) the 
Tuatlia De Danann were all that time, without our knowledge, 
on either side of Loch Lein, and they understood that if we, 
the Fenians, were united (all) the men of Erin could not win 
the goal of us. And the council which the Tuatlia De Danann 
took, was to depart each again, and not to play (out) that goal 
with us." 

The first thing we hear about both Cuchullain 



198 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

and Finn, the i^reat chiefs, is in connection with 
hurling, when they w^ere mere children. 

Mr. T. O'Xeill Russell, in an interesting: letter 
to me on this subject, says : — 

'' I find from a very old man from the county Clare, that in 
his time, 'and ever and always afore him,' great games of 
hurley, between counties or parishes, were played with twenty- 




No. 26. 

MILITARY FORK. Distinctly Irish weapon (iron; drawing one-third 

tlie actual size). 

one men on each side, — mdrsheisir air lai\ mor'Sheisir air 
g-cul, a^s mdrsheisir air fuadach ; that is, 'seven (hterally a 
big six) in the middle.' " 

''In the 'Book of Rights,' it is recorded, that comain^ or 
hurleys, are mentioned among some of the presents from the 



THE CHIEF GAME OF ANCIENT IRELAND. 199 

Arch King to his clients. Foot -ball and hand-ball do not 
seem to have been practised ; and I do not remember to have 




No. 27. 
MILITARY FORK. (Iron; one-third actual size.) 

seen any mention of boxing or wrestling;* but the former 
surely was known, for in the 'Death of Cuchullain,' in the 



* The following extract from a very ancient Gaelic book, 
"" The pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne,"' shows that wrestling. 



200 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

*Book of Leinster,' that chieftain is said to have given cne of 
his assailants a blow of his fist, which knocked out his brains." 

"Next to hurling, the great out-door sport of ancient Ire- 
land was horse- racing. Tailten and Carman were the places 
for it. There is much mention of horse -racing, a ' sport for 
kings '; but I am glad to say that there is no mention of betting 
at horse-races at all; but the Irish are mentioned as betting at 
chess, and betting heavily, too. 

"As for hunting, Irish MSS. are full of it. The game most 
mentioned — in fact, the only game mentioned — is the deer. 
The usual way of hunting was with hounds. There are the 
names of more than a hundred hounds given in one of the 
Ossianic poems I have. The boar is, to my knowledge, only 
once mentioned, and that is in the ^Boyish Exploits of Finn,' 
where he is said to have killed a fierce, wild boar, and presented 
his first wife with its head. Chariot- racing was much prac- 
tised. I do not remember any book in which there is any 
particular account of it ; but I remember to have seen it 
mentioned in many places. Swimming is often mentioned. 
Another of Finn's boyish exploits was to drown nine boys who 
enticed him to swim with them in order that they might drown 
him. There is, also, some mention of boat -racing, but not 
very much. So much was the deer hunted, that, in many parts 
of Ireland, a hunt is still called fiacli instead of seilg, pro- 



at least, was practised ; and that the ' cross-buttock ' was as 
well known in ancient as in modern Ireland : " — 

"Then, said Dubh-Chosach, that he, himself, would go to 
fight with Diarmuid. . . . Then he and Diarmuid rushed 
upon one another, like wrestlers, straining their arms and 
their sinews. And this is the fashion of the sore strife that 
took place between them : They threw their weapons out of 
their hands, and ran to encounter each other, and lock their 
knotty hands across one another's graceful backs. Then each 
gave the other a mighty twist; but Diarmuid hove Dubh- 
Chosach upon his shoulder, and hurled his body to the earth, 
and bound him firm and fast upon the spot." 



THE CHIEF GAME OF ANCIENT IRELAND. 201 

nonnced she! ig. Flack does not mean hunt; it means simplj 
a deer; but. at last, it came to mean a hunt, because a deei 
was the animal usually hunted. 




No. 28. 

ANCIENT CHESSMAN. 

A king — found with several others in a bog, in the county of Meath, 
Ireland. Preserved in the Royal Irish Academy. 



"The great in-door game, — in fact, the only one men- 
tioned, — is chess; Flth chill {^ronoxnic^d Fi chill ; feat-Jichille, 
a chessman). Innumerable are the mentions of this game in 
Gaelic MSS. There is every reason to think the game was 
played just as it is now; but the pieces were very large, made 
of bronze; some of them have been found. You will see a 
drawing of one in the ' Book of Rights.' [See Figure N'o. 28.] 

"You must bear in mind that we know only very little yet 
about ancient Ireland, and cannot know all until all the 



202 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

MSS. are translated. One thing is certain: there was very 
Uttle drunkenness amongst tlie ancient Irish ; to my knowledge, 
there is only one mention of it, in a tract called the "" Meicera 
Ulladh,' or ^ Drunkenness of Ulster,' when Cuchullain, and 
some more of the ' boys ' of the period, got drunk, and for a 
long time, too ; for they never stopped until they reached Kerry, 
having set out from Armagh! Whiskey is never once men- 
tioned in the old MSS. They seem to have known no drinks 
but wine, ^o?i ; and lann, ale." 



VI. 

THE ANCIENT GAMES AT TAILTEN AND CARMAN. 

The Corinth and Olympus of ancient Ireland 
were Tailten and Carman, where the national 
fairs were periodically held. 

''The great fairs anciently held in Ireland," 
says Prof. W. K. Sullivan, of the Koyal College 
of Science, "were not, like their modern repre- 
sentatives, mere markets ; but were assemblies of 
the people to celebrate funerals, games, and other 
religious rites, during pagan times ; to hold par- 
liaments, promulgate laws, listen to the recitation 
of tales and poems ; engage in, or witness, con- 
tests and feats of arms, horse-racin^:, and other 
popular games. They were analogous, in many 
ways, to the Olympian and other games of 
ancient Greece." 



THE ANCIENT GAMES. 203 

''The Taltenian sports," says Ware, ''were a 
sort of warlike exercises, something resembling 
Olympic games ; consisting of racing, tilts, tour- 
naments, or something like them, and other exer- 
cises. They were held every year at Tailten, a 
mountain in Meath, for fifteen days after the 1st 
of August. Their first institution is ascribed to 
Luo'aidh Lam-fadha, the twelfth kino; of Ireland, 
who began his reign a. m. 2764, in gratitude to 
the memory of Tailte, the daughter of Mao'h-jMor 
(a prince of some part of Spain), who, having 
been married to Eochaid, kinir of Ireland, took 
this Lugaidh under her protection, and had the 
care of his education in his minority. From this 
lady both the sports, and the place where they 
were celebrated, took their names. From King 
Lugaidh, the first of August was called Lugnassa, 
or the memory of Lugaidh, nassa signifj^ing 
memory in Irish." 

There is an ancient Gaelic tract on the origin 
of the names of places in Ireland, which is called 
the ''- Dindsenchas,'' From it we learn that the 
fair of Tailte, or Tailten, was instituted to com- 
memorate the name of Tailtin, the daughter of 
Magh-Mor, king of Spain, and wife of the Irish 
King Eochad Garbh, who built the "mound of 
the foreigners" at Tara. According to the "Dind- 
senchas,'' the fair of Tailten was instituted 3500 



204 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPORT. 

years B.C.; according to the "Annals of the 
Four Masters," a. m. 3370. These dates, what- 
ever be their real value, certainly indicate the 
great antiquity of the fair. 

One of the greatest figures in the history of 
Ireland, ancient or modern, is buried at Tailten ; 
nameh% Ollamh Fodhla (pronounced Olav Fo- 
lah), who is recorded to have become monarch of 
Ireland a. m. 3882, and to have died in the year 
A.M. 3922, after a reign of forty years. He w^as 
the fortieth monarch of Ireland. The original 
name of this prince was Eochaidh ; but, from his 
o;reat learnino^, he obtained the distinction of 01- 
lamh (chief poet, or doctor) before he became 
king ; and, afterwards, he was called Ollamh 
Fodhla, w^hich was one of the ancient names of 
Erinn.* 

Mr. Michael C. O'Shea, of Boston, a Gaelic 
scholar of deep research, gives the following in- 
teresting note relating to ancient athletic exercises 
in the county Kerry : — 

''Insliigeelach, a town in the county of Cork, Ireland, 
means intervale, or river-margin, of gymnastics, and is so called 
from a broad and level piece of river margin, in close vicinity, 
on which g\Tnnastic sports were practised in former times; and 
the last of the princely O'Donoghues of Ross Castle, on the 



* Ollamh Fodhla was the founder of the "Senchus More," 
or " Great Law," the title of the Brehon Laws (translated by 



THE AXCIEXT GAMES. 205 

shore of the lower lake of Killarney, was titled Donald na 
Xgeelach^ Donald of the Gymnastics, from his wonderful gym- 
nastic skill, which gained him the reputation of a necromancer, 
or man of superhuman powers. He is the Merlin of the legen- 
dary lore of the ancient Kingdom of Kerry, a chief who never 
died, but rode his silver-shod steed into the lake, and still 
appears once in every seven years, riding over its surface, view- 
ing his ancient domain." 

Teltowii (the ancient Tailten) is one of the most 
famous spots in Ireland ; next to Tara, probably 
it is the most ancient, if not the most notable. 
The history of Tailten, Pagan and Christian, 
would be the history of Ireland in symbol, — its 
fairs, games, laws, sports, poetry, marriages, etc. 
By the wa}^, it is w^orth noting that " a Teltown 
marriage," often spoken of in Meath to-day, lasted 
iust a year and a day. Sir William Wilde 
(''Beauties of the Boyne and Blackwater,") 
describes this singular old-time Irish marriage, 
which took place at the fair of Tailten : — 

" On the northeast side of the great fort {Bath Buhh) the 
most remarkable of the Teltown ceremonies took place — the 
marriages or betrothals. Upon one side of the great embank- 
ment were ranged the boys, and on the other the girls ; the 



O' Donovan and C Curry). He organized a triennial parliament 
at Tara, of the chiefs, priests, and bards, who digested the laws 
into a record called the "Psalter of Tara." He founded 
schools of history, medicine, philosophy, poetry, and astronomy, 
which were protected by his successors. Kimbath (450 b.c.) 
and Hugony (300 B.C.), also, promoted the civil interests of the 
kingdom in a remarkable and somewhat similar manner. 



206 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

former ogling, the latter blushing. Having had a good view of 
each other they passed down to where there is a deex) hollow in 
the land, called Lug-an-Ecnvj, where they became separated by 
a high wall. In this wall, say the local traditions, there was a 
door with a small hole in it, through which each girl passed her 
middle finger, which the men on the other side looked at. If 
any of them admired the finger, he laid hold of it, and the lass 
to whom it belonged forthwith became his bride. The marri- 
age held good for a year and a day. If the couple disagreed 
during that time, they retm-ned to Tailten, walked into the 
centre of Rath Dubli, stood back to back, one facing the north 
and the other the soutb,and walked out of the fort, a divorced 
couple, free to try their luck again at Lug-an-Eany,'''' 

This very ancient site of the palace of Tailten, 
one of the four royal residence^ of Ireland, in 
early times, is situated on the northern bank of 
the Bojaie, about midway bet\veen Kells and 
Xayan. It is in the centre of the most fertile land 
in all Ireland, and probably in all Europe. The 
ancient earthworks of fort and rath are still 
there — will be there while the earth lasts. The 
remains of trench, embankment, and foundation 
are greater, even, than those of Tara, at least 
those now existing there. 

In '' The Annals of the Kingdom of Ireland 
by the Four Masters " there is a notice of Tailten, 
saying : — 

^' In the year of the world 3370, in the reign of Lugh 
Lamhfhada, the fair of Tailten was established, in commemo- 
ration and remembrance of his foster-mother, Tailte, the 
daughter of Maghmor, King of Spain, and the wife of Eochaidh, 
son of Ere, the last King of the Firbolgs." 



THE ANCIENT GAMES. 207 

The fair of Tailten (Teltown) continued down 
to the time of Roderick O'Connor, the hist mon- 
arch of Ireland, and was hekl annually on the 
1st of August, which month derives its name, in 
the Irish language, from this very circumstance, 
being called Lugh-nasadJi^ or Lugli's fair — the 
Lammas day- — to which many ancient rites and 
ceremonies still attach throuohout Ireland. 

" Upon the occasion of the fair of Tailten," 
says Sir AVilliam Wilde (*' Beauties of the Boyne 
and Blackwater," p. 150), '' various sports and 
pastimes, a description of Olympic games, were 
celebrated, consistin^r of feats of strenath and 
agility in wrestling, boxing, running, and athletic 
manly sports, as well as horse-races and chariot- 
races. Besides these, the people were entertained 
with shows and rude theatrical exhibitions. 
Among these latter are enumerated sham battles, 
and also aquatic fights, which were exhibited 
upon the artificial lakes, the sites of which are 
still pointed out." 

The most satisfactory account preserved of these 
meetino;s, is that of the fair of Carman. This 
account is preserved in the fragments of poems 
in the precious old " Book of Leinster" (a work 
known to have been compiled from ancient MSS. 
in the year 1150), which is one of the treasures of 
the library of Trinity College, Dublin. The 



208 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MAXLY SPOUT. 

ancient Book of Bally mote, preserved in the li- 
brary of the Royal Irish Academy, also contains 
a description of the fair of Carman. 

The complete obliteration of the ancient Car- 
man, and the growth of another city, or a city 
with another name in its place, is accounted for 
by the fact that that part of Ireland was the 
stronghold and for many generations the home of 
the Danish invaders. Wexford is one of the few 
cities that the Danes have named in Ireland ; and 
nearly all the other places bearing Danish names 
in Ireland are also on the east coast. 

Considering how prominently the Danes fig- 
ured in Irish history, this is a singular fact. 
Worsae (page 71) gives a table of 1373 Danish 
and Norweo^ian names in the middle and northern 
counties of England, names ending in tliorpe^ 6y, 
thicaite. with^ toft^ becTc^ noes, ey, dale, force, fell, 
tarn, and haugh. 

Dr. Joyce's " Irish Names of Places," Vol. I, 
page 105, says: — 

"We have in Ireland only a few Danish terminations, as 
ford, which occurs four times; ey, three times; ster, three 
times; and ore, which we find in one name. We have only 
fifteen Danish names in Ireland, almost all confined to one 
particular district.* ' This,' says Dr Joyce, ' appears to me to 

* ' ' The only names 1 can find that are wholly or partly Danish 
are Wexford, Waterford, Carlingford, Strangford (Lough), Old- 



THE ANCIENT GAINIES. 



209 



afford a complete answer to the statements which we see some- 
times made, that the Danes conquered the coimtry, and their 
chiefs ruled over it as sovereigns.' " 



Nos. 29 and 30. 

ORAiSECH, with Firbolg fasteninj 
and Tnatha De Danann point. 



(See pa^e 177.) No. 31. 



FIKBOLG FIARLANXA, 
OK CURVED POINTLESS BLADE. 



The truth is, the Danes never had any perma- 
nent settlement in Irehmd except in a few seaport 
towns ; and even there they had not mucli owner- 
ship of land, but were sea-traders and merchants. 

erfleet, Carnsore, Ireland's Eye, Lanibay, Dalkey, Howth, 
Leixlip, and Oxmantown . . The termination ford is the 
northern word fiord, or inlet of the sea.'" (Joyce, ''Irish 
Names of Places.'*) 



210 ETHICS OF 130X1XG AMJ> MAXLY SPOIIT. 

The famous fair was held at ancient Carman 
every three years. The Gaelic poem, or poems, 
in which it is described, have been translated 
1)y Prof. Eugene O'Curry, ]M. E. I. A. ; and -the 
evidence goes to show that the fragments were 
originally part of one contmuous poem. 

This poem is of profound importance for the 
ancient history of Ireland, which is lono' due to * 
the world. All such expressions as this article, 
though written with a special motive, Avill extend 
the knowledge of these wonderful antique literary 
treasures, will tend to show their value to readers 
of the Irish race and others, and help toward their 
future study by the scholars of the world. The 
archaeologist, the philologist, the ethnologist, of 
centuries to come, will find in ancient Erinn such 
treasures as almost no other country has yet to 
deliver up to the generations. 

Carman was one of the seven chief cemeteries 
of Erinn, the others being Tailten, Cruachan, the 
Brugh of the Boyne, Cuile, Tallacht, and Teamar 
of Dunn Finntain. 

The poem on ''The Fair of Carman" begins ' 

with Greek-like abruptness : — 

'' Carman, why so called ? Answer: Three men who came 
from Athens, and one woman with them, /. e., the three sons 
of Dibad, — Difin, Dubh, and Dothnr, were their names, — 
and Carman was their mother. By charms and spells and in- 
cantations the mother blighted every place." 



THE ANCIENT GAMES. 211 

" The grave of Carman, by whom was it dug ? 
Will you learn, or do you know ? 
According to all our beloved forefathers. 
It was Bres, son of Gladen. Listen : — 

" Four score and five full hundreds, 
Is the number true of years. 
From Carman of demoniac spells, 
To the birth of Jesus after humanity. 

'' And the people of Leinster celebrated this fair by their 
tribes and by their families, down to the time of Cathair Mor. 
There were seven races there, and a week for considering the 
laws and the rights of the province for three years. It was in 
the kalends of August they assembled there, and it was on the 
sixth of August they used to leave it; and every third year 
they were wont to hold it; and two years for the preparations." 

Besides the markets of cattle, merchandise, 
arms, etc., there were poems read, laws revised, 
contests by bards, seven horse-races, and various 
kinds of military shows and athletic contests, 
chiefly with arms. 

Another description of this ancient Irish as- 
sembly, or fair, is given in the Gaelic poem 
contained in the ancient '' Book of Ballymote," 
translated by Prof. Eugene O'Curry, M.R.I. A. 

** Five kings and thirty, without sorroAv, here, 

Of the Leinstermen, before the faith of Christ, 

Their pride over Erinn had si)read, 

From thy sweet-sounding harbor, O Carman ! 

*' The Leinstermen continued to hold this fair, 
By their tribes and by their families, 
From Labraidh Loingsech — theme of poets — 
To powerful Cathair of red-spears." 



212 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY 8PORT, 

The poem speeities the })ositions allotted to the 
kino's and the ureat chiefs, to witness the ofanies 
and exercises of the fair. 

*' 111 the Kalends of August, without fail, 
They assembled in every third year, 
They arranged seven well-fought races, 
In the seven days of the week. 

" Here they proclaimed in clear words 

The i)rivileges and laws of the province ; 

Every rule of our severe law, 

In every third year they adjusted. 

^* Corn, milk, peace, ease, and prosperity. 
Waters full and in abundance, 
Kighteous rules and loyalty to kings, 
With troops to guard Erinn were its care. 

• ^' The hospitality of the Hy-Drona, 

And the steed contests of the men of C^ssary, 

And the dash of spear-handles 

From the entire host, w^ere its termination." 

From the poem contained in the ancient ''Book 
of Leinster" (Prof. O'Curry's transhition) is the 
following description of the fair of Tailten : — 

•• The Leinstermen held this, the fair. 
Both as tribes and householders. 

Here they proclaimed, boldly and loudly. 

The privileges of every law, and their restraints. 

•' To sue, to levy, to controvert debts. 
To abuse steeds in their career 
Is not allowed here by contending racers, 
Xor elopement, oppression, or arrest. 



THE ANCIENT GAMES. 213 

"No man goes into the woman's assembly; 
No woman into the assembly of the men ; 
No abdnction here is heard of; 
Nor repudiation of husbands, or of wives. 

'^ Whoever transgresses the Law of the Kings, 

Which Benen so accurately and permanently wrote,* 
Cannot be spared upon family composition. 
But he must die for his transgression. 

" Here follow its great privileges, — 

The rights and enjoyments of the fair. 
Trumpets, harps, wide-mouthed horns, 
CiLsifjhs^ timpanists, without fail; 
Poets and groups of agile jugglers." 

The poem goes on to enumerate the features of 
the great fair; the reading of poems, histories, 
etymologies, precepts; the annals of feasts and 
fairs; ''"xhe History of the Hill of Mighty Tea- 
mar " (Tara) ; the stor}^ of the noblest women ; 
of courts, enchantments, conquests, kings ; the 

* The law of Benen is the famous Irish ''Book of Rights " 
{^' Lcahhar na g-Ceart'^), published by the Celtic Society, 
Dublin, in 1847. It gives an account of the rights of the 
monarchs of all Ireland, and the revenues payable to them by 
the kings of the several provinces, and of the stipends paid 
by the monarch to the provincial kings for their services, etc. 
This Benen, or Benean, was St. Benignus the disciple of St. 
Patrick, and his successor as Bishop of Ard Maclia (Armagh). 
He resigned his bishopric in 405 ; died on the 9tli of November, 
468, and was buried in Armagh. It is probable that the laws 
and tributes mentioned in " The Book of Rights" were taken 
from records of great antiquity, and were digested and, per- 
haps, put into metre by St. Benignus. 



214 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

successions and battles of kinsfs ; the victories of 
saints of Leinster. 

Then follows this impressive outline of the field 
and the fair of Carman : — 

*' O Leinstermen of the tombs, pray listen! 
Twenty-one ratlis of lasting fame, 
In which hosts are laid under ground ; 
A psalm- singing cemetery of renown 
Is there by the side of noble Carman. 

" Seven mounds without touching each other, 
For the oft-lamenting of the dead ; 
Seven plains, sacred, without a house, 
For the sports of joyous Carman were reserved. 

*' Three markets were held within its borders: 
A market for food; a market for live cattle; 
The great market of the foreign Greeks, 
In which are gold and costly clothes. 

*' The slope of the steeds; the slope of the cooking; 
The slope of the assembly of embroidering women. 



** There comes of not celebrating this feast. 
Baldness, cowardice, early grayness ; 
A king without wisdom, without wealth. 
Without hospitality, without truthfulness." 

This remarkable poem, coming down to us 
from remote antiquity, is one of the many proofs 
Ireland has to offer of the early civilization and 
refinement of her people. There are invaluable 
stores of ancient Gaelic learning and poetry still 
concealed in the museums and libraries of Europe. 
*' These old poems show," says Prof. O'Curry, 



HEROIC COMBAT IX ANCIENT IRELAND. 215 

" the nature of the Assemblies, or Fairs, of Ire- 
land, and how the sfrave lousiness of leofislation 
was performed on appointed days, in the midst 
of others set apart for pleasure, or reserved for 
mercantile pursuits." 

Charles O'Conor, of Belanao^are, a famous 
authority on Irish literary antiquities, says : — 
"Placed in the extremity of Europe, secluded from 
the rest of the world, unconquered, unmixed, and 
never affected l\y the concussions of the fiill of 
the Roman Empire, the Irish must have pos- 
sessed primeval institutions, which these MSS. 
are the best calculated to unfold." 



VII. 

AN HEROIC COMBAT IN ANCIENT IRELAND. 

The most interesting literary relic of ancient 
Ireland is, probably, the heroic poem called the 
''Tain B6 Chuailgne'' (''The Cattle-Prey of 
Cooley"), which is preserved in the Leabhar na- 
h-Uidhri and in the ''Book of Leinster." It is 
assigned to a period in or about the year 600, 
A.D. ; at least one specimen of the same kind of 
ancient verse, in the "Dindsenchas,'' was written 



216 ETHICS OF BOXING AXD 3IAXLY SPORT. 

about A.B. 590, by Amergin, chief poet to 
Diannait, son of Fergus Ceirblieoil. 

'' These compositions prove," says Prof. 




No. 32. 
*' BROAD GREEN SPEAR " 

Bronze. (See page 177.) 



No. 33. 

FIRBOLG DAGGER, 

called coLG. 




No.34. 

MA^'AIS, or BROAD 
THRUSTING SPEAR. 

(See page 177.) 



O'Curry, ''that the most enchanting form of 
Irish music is purely native, independent of any 
Saxon, Danish, or Norman aid." 



HEKOIC COMBAT IN ANCIENT IKELAND. 217 

The "Tain Bo Chauilgne'' contains many de- 
tailed and picturesque accounts of personal con- 
flicts, weapons, dress, armor, etc., and, in this 
respect alone, it is interesting to glance at the 
history of the noble poem. 

Saint Ciaran, the founder of the church at 
Clonmacnoise, in ancient Westmeath, and who 
died in the year 548, transcribed this poem with 
his own hand into a book called ''Leahliarna-li' 
Uidliri,'' which book remained at Clonmacnoise 
for hundreds of years afterwards. The poem was 
again transcribed from St. Ciaran's MS. about the 
year 1100, and in the year 1873 it was trans- 
lated into English and published by the Koyal 
Irish Academy, in the library of which the vellum 
transcription of the year 1100 is still preserved. 

The '^Tdin Bo Chuailgiie^^ is also preserved in 
the " Book of Leinster," an almost contemporary 
manuscript, four hundred large pages of which 
still remain in beautiful preservation. The «^Book 
of Leinster" was transcribed about the year 1150, 
by Bishop MacGorman, of Kildare, who died in 
1160. At this day, therefore, it is at least seven 
hundred and thirty-eight years old. It contains a 
splendid copy of the "Tdvi Bo Chuailgne,'' So 
that we have this superb literary specimen of 
ancient Irish poetry from two distinct sources 
giving an assured copy of the poem as it existed 



218 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

in St. Ciaran's time, before the year 548, — or 
over thirteen centuries as^o. 

Let me here interpohite a word about the 
artistic production of these and other ancient 
Irish books. With reference to the execution of 
the lettering and decoration, ]\Ir. Dig')y Wyatt 
observes that in delicacy of handling and minute 
but faultless execution, the whole range of pahe- 
ography oflers nothing equal to the early Irish 
manuscripts, especially " The Book of Kells,'' the 
most marvellous of them all. One cannot wonder, 
therefore, that Giraldus Cambrensis, when living 
in Ireland, in the reign of Henry II., on being 
shown an illustrated Irish manuscript, exclaimed : 
" This is more like the work of angels than of men.'' 

Sir William Wilde, himself a Protestant, writ- 
ing of the destruction of Irish art ('' Sketches 
of the Irish Past") , says : — 

'' The gorgeous missals and illuminated gospels, instinct 
with life, genius, holy reverence, and patient love, were des- 
tined to be replaced soon after by the dull mechanism of print ; 
while Protestantism used all its new-found strength to destroy 
that innate tendency of our nature, which seeks to manifest 
religious fervor, faith, and zeal by costly offerings and sacri- 
fices. The golden-bordered holy-books, the sculptured crosses, 
the jewelled shrines, were crushed under the feet of Cromweirs 
troopers; the majestic and beautiful abbeys were desecrated 
and cast down to ruin, while beside them rose the mean and 
ugly structures of the reformed faith. . . . Since that 
mournful period there has been no revival of art in Ireland. 



HEROIC COMBAT IX ANCIENT IRELAND. 219 

*' The relics of a civilization three thousand years old may 
still be gazed ui)on by modern eyes in the splendid and miri- 
valled antiquarian collection of the Royal Irish Academy. The 
golden circlets, the fibulas, torques, bracelets, rings, worn by the 
Tuatha De Danann, are not only costly in value, but often so 
singularly beautiful in the working out of minute artistic 
details, that modern art is not merely unable to equal them, 
but unable even to comprehend how the ancient workers in 
metal could accomplish works of such delicate, almost micro- 
scopic, minuteness of finish," (Sir William Wilde, ** Ancient 
Dublin/') 

I have siiid this much about those ancient and 
precious Irish books to introduce a description of 
a fight between two Irish chieftains, which is 
related in the Tain Bo Cltuaihjne, 

The poem is a picture of the time, an evidence 
of the extraordinary development of Irish civil- 
ization at a period when every country in Europe 
north of Italy Avas in absolute barbarism. Even 
at the time of its transcription l)y St. Ciaran, 
nearly thirteen and a half centuries ago, litera- 
ture had not l)een born in England ; indeed, that 
country was in the rudest condition, just emerge 
ing from the darkness of an utterly unsocial state. 

I quote and condense from the book of the 
Tain, entitled " The Fight of Ferdiad : '' 

''And then it was discussed by the men of Eiriu who should 
go to combat and do battle with Cuchulaind at the early hour 
of the morrow. [Cuchulaind, or Cuchullain, had challenged all 
Queen Medb's warriors.] What they all said was: that it was 
Ferdiad, son of Daman, son of Dare, the valiant warrior of 



220 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

the men of Domnand. For their mode of combat was equal 
and alike. They had learned the science of arms, bravery, and 
valor with the same tutors ; with Scathach, and with Uathach, 
and with Aife. And neither of them had any advantage over 
the other, except that Cuclndaind had the feat of the cjae-hoUj 
(the casting of the belly-dart)." * 

Messaofe after message was sent to Ferdiad, 
asking him to come and light Cucliulaind. But 
''he knew wherefore they wanted him — -to fight 
and combat witli his own friend and companion 
and fellow-pupil, Cucliulaind, and he came not 
with them." 

Then Queen Medb (Meave or Ma1)) sent the 
druids to urge, and the satirists to sting, Ferdiad ; 
and, more out of fear of the bitter poets than 
the priests, the warrior yielded. 

" The subject of the strange belief in ancient Ireland, in 
the power of a poet," says Prof. Eugene O' Curry, *' would be 
one of great interest to investigate." By their satires they 
were supposed to be able to bring fatalities on men. Laidcenn, 
a poet of the fourth century, we are told, satirized the men of 
Leinster, '^ so that neither corn, grass, nor foliage could grow 
for them during a whole year." The belief in this occult power 
of the poet was general in all the ancient history of Ireland. 



* The gal-bul(fa, or gae-bolga (the belly-dart) is unique 
among the weapons of Ireland. There is a common phrase 
often heard in Ireland, ^' Put the gai-bolg on him" (meaning 
a masterful stroke), which I have heard vulgarized in America 
into, ^'Put the kye-hosh on him." It is strange to trace such 
a phrase back to a mysterious weapon used thousands of years 
ago in Ireland. 

" This was the character of that dart," says the ancient 



HEROIC COMBAT IN ANCIENT IRELAND. 221 

But Ferdiiid was resolved not to fight Cuchu- 
laind without hi<jh reward : 

^'Aiid when he arrived he was received with honor and 
attendance, and he was served with pleasant, sweet, intoxicat- 
ing liquor, so that he became gently merry. And great rewards 
were promised him for making the fight, namely: a chariot, 
with four-times-seven cumals; the outfit of twelve men of 
clothes of every color; and the extent of his own territory of 
the level plain of Magh Aie, free of tribute, to the end of time; 
and Findebar, the daughter of the King, as his wadded wife, 
and the golden brooch which was in Medb's cloak in addition." 

Queen Medb urged Ferdiad to the fight with 
promise of this great reward ; l)ut Ferdiad refused 
to 0:0 without further iruarantee. He answered ; 



o 



'* I will not accept it without guarantee; 
For a champion without security I will not be. 
Heavily will it press upon me to-morrow. 
Terrible will be the battle. 
Hound, indeed, is the name of Culand; 
He is fierce in combat." 



Tclin Bo Chiiailgne : ''It was upon a stream it should be set, 
and it w^as from between the toes it should be cast. It made 
but the wound of one dart in entering the body; but it pre- 
sented thirty inverted points against coming back; so that it 
could not be draivn from a person's body without opening it." 

"Concerning this w^eapon," says Prof. O' Curry ("Ancient 
Irish," p. 310, vol. 11), "if we only knew of it from the exag- 
gerated description of the manner in wdiich it tore its Avay 
through Ferdiad' s questionable armor, its existence at all might 
be very well doubted; but, in another ancient tale, we have 
very fair authority to show that Cuchulaind had unwittingly 



222 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT, 

Again Medb offered treasures, and made prom- 
ises of glittering reward. Ferdiad was resolute : 

" I will not go without securities 
To the contest of the ford. 
It will live in fame until the judgment day, 
I will not accept though I die, 
Though thou excitest me in language." 

Then Medb agreed to Ferdiad's terms, and he 

agreed to fight six champions on the morrow, or 



killed his oAvn son Conlaech with this very weapon, in an ordi- 
nary combat on the shore, near Dundalk." 

Like the Tathlum, or sling-ball, Avitli which the chami^ion 
Balor >vas killed in the battle of the Northern Magli Tuireadh^ 
the gae-bolga has been assigned an Eastern origin by a very 
ancient Irish poet. His poem, in Gaelic, opens thus ; — 

** How was the gae-bolga discovered? 
Or by whom was it brought hither 
From the Eastern parts of the world ? 

" Inform those who are ignorant 

That this weapon originally came hither 
From Bolg Mac Buain, in the East, 
To Cuchulaind, in Muirtheimhne." 

The poet goes on to relate that the champion Bolg Mac 
Buain found, on the sea-shore, the bones of a monster called 
the Curridd, and "made the wild spear from the bones of the 
kingly monster." Mac Buain gave the gae-bolg to Mac Inbar; 
who gave it to Lena, his friend ; who gave it to Dermeil ; who 
gave it to Scathach, the teacher of the war college of Alba 
(Scotland); who gave it to her daughter Aife (Cuchulaind' s 
mistress); who gave the weapon to Cuchulaind. 

" Cuchulaind brought the gae-bolg 
Into Erinn, with all its barbs ; 
By it he slew Conlaech of the shields, 
And Ferdiad afterwards." 

Such is the account of the origin and history of the famous 
gae-bolg, as preserved in an extremely old Gaelic poem. 



HEROIC COMBAT IN ANCIENT IRELAND. 223 

combat with Cuchulaind, whichever he thought 
easier. 

Fergus, a warrior, proceeded in his chariot 
to Cuchulaind's residence, to inform him of the 
agreement. " Thine own friend," he said, " and 
companion, the fellow-pupil, the co-feat and co- 
deed and co-valor man, Ferdiad, is coming to 
light with thee." 

"I am here," answered Cuchulaind ; ''I do not 
desire to fight my friend ; but, I trust, as I have 
not yielded before any other man of Eiriu, I shall 
not yield before him." * 

*' Should we happen to meet at the ford, 
I and Ferdiad of never-failing valor, 
It shall not be a separation without history; 
Fierce will be our conflict. 

" I pledge my word and my vow, 

Though w^e may be much alike in combat, 
That it is I who shall gain the victory. " 

Both champions prepared for the conflict, as- 
sisted by their friends. In the morning, Ferdiad 
ordered his horses to be harnessed. Whereupon 
his charioteer tried to persuade him not to fight 
Cuchulaind : — 

"It Avere better* for thee to stay; 
Thy threats are not gentle. 
To encounter the chief hero of Ulster, 
It is a meeting of which grief will come. 



* Throughout this poem the name of the country is spelled 
Eiriu, not Erinn. 



224 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

Long will it be remembered : 

Woe is he who goeth that jom-ney." 

Ferdiad would not be persuaded. He bad 
made guarantee to figbt, and be would. He an- 
swered tbe cbarioteer : — 

•' What thou sayest is not right; 

A l)rave champion should not refuse: 

It is not our inheritance : 

Be silent, then, my servant: 

We will be brave in the field of battle; 

Yalor is better than timidity ; 

Let us go to the chaUenge." 

Ferdiad, in bis cbariot, arrived first at tbe ford, 
wbicb gave bim tbe cboice of weapons. Wbile 
be waited, be lay down on tbe cusbions, and 
slept. 

Meanwbile, Cucbulaind bad ordered bis cbariot 
to be prepared, saying: ''He is an early-rising 
champion wbo cometb to meet us to-day." 

Wben Cucbukind sprang into bis cbariot, tbere 
sbouted round bim BocanacTts, and Bananachs, 
and Geniti GUndi, and demons of tbe air ; for tbe 
Tuatba De Danami were used to set up tbeir 
sbouts around bim, so tbat tbe batred and fear 
and abborrence and terror of bim sbould be tbe 
greater in every battle. And soon tbe awful rat- 
tie and roar of bis cbariot was beard coming ; and 
• Ferdiad's servant awoke bis lord. "Good, O 
Ferdiad," be cried, "arise; bere tbey come to 



HEROIC COMBAT IN ANCIENT IKELAND. 225 

the ford." And ao:ain the foteful charioteer fore- 
bodes darkly for his master : — 

^' Woe to him who is on the hillock, 
Awaiting the hound of valor ! 
I foretold last year 

That there would come a heroic hound — 
The hound of Emain Macha — 
The hound of a territory, the hound of battle. 
I hear, I have heard ! " 

Ferdiad reproached his charioteer as unfaithful, 
and as havinof received bribes from Cuchulaind. 

Then they saw the chariot of Cuchulaind ; " the 
beautiful four-peaked chariot, with a green pavil- 
ion, drawn by two fleet, broad-chested, high- 
flanked, wide -hoofed, slender- legged, broad- 
rumped horses ; one of which was gray, the 
other black." 

" And Cuchulaind reached the ford. Ferdiad 
came on the south side ; Cuchulaind en the north 
side of the ford." The champions saluted each 
other ; Cuchulaind said he was sorry to have to 
meet his friend in battle. Ferdiad replied, search- 
ing for a reason for disagreement, that when they 
were pupils in the war-schools of Scathach and 
Uathach and Aife, Cuchukiind had been his at- 
tendant, to tie up his spears and prepare his bed. 

"It is true, indeed," said Cuchulaind, " but it was then as 
thy junior I did this for thee; and this is not the story to be 
told hereafter. For there is not in the world a champion I 
would not fight this day." 



226 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Then they inveighed bitterly against each other ; 
till at last they came to the question of how they 
should fiaht. But once more the tenderness of 



No. 35. 



No. 36. 



SLEGH. 

Sharp-pointed Tuatlia De Danann Spears. (See page 177.) 

their old friendship overcame Cuchulaind, and he 
implored Ferdiad to withdraw from the combat : — 

" Findabar, the daughter of the king, — 

The reward which has been proffered thee, — 

To numbers before thee has been falsely promised, 

And many like thee has she wounded. 



HEROIC COMBAT IN ANCIENT IRELAND. 22 

Break not with me thy vow not to combat, 
Break not thy bond — break not friendship, 
Break not thy pledged word. 

Unto fifty champions has Findabar been proffered, — 
By me they have been sent to their graves." 



No. 37. No. 38. No. 39. 

SLEGH. 

Tuatha De Dananii Spears. (See page 177.) 

And he urges Ferdiad by all the dear old ties 
between them not to enter on the combat : — 

" We were heart-companions. 

We were comrades in assemblies, 
We were fellows of the same bed, 
Where we used to sleep the deep sleep. 
To hard battles, 



228 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

In countries many and far distant, 
Together we used to practice, and go 
Through each forest, learning with Scathach." 

" O CuchulMind of the beautiful feats," said Fer- 
diad, ''though we have studied arts of equal 
science, and though I have heard our bonds of 
friendship, of me shall come thy first wounds; 
remember not thy championship. O Hound ! it 
shall not avail thee, — O Hound! it shall not 
avail thee." 

Then Ferdiad cut short the discussion by ask- 
ing with what arms they should fight. " Thine 
is the choice of arms, till night," said Cuchulaind, 
" for it was thou that first reached the ford." 

Ferdiad chose javelins — light spears for throw- 
ing. They took their shields, and ''their light 
turned-handled spears, and their light little quill 
spears, and their light ivory-hafted spears." 
" They used to fly from them and to them like 
bees on the wing on a fine day." Each continued 
to shoot at the other with these missiles from 
morn till midday, until all their missiles were 
blunted on the shields. Neither was wounded. 

Then they desisted, to change their weapons. 
" They cast away their missiles into the hands of 
their charioteers." Ferdiad now chose " straight, 
smooth, hardened spears, with their hardened 
flaxen strings in them ; " and the fight continued 



HEKOIC COMBAT IN ANCIENT IRELAND. 229 

till nightfall, when they ceased. ''They threw 
their arms to the charioteers. Each of them ap- 
proached the other forthwith, and each put his 
hands around the other's neck and gave him 
three kisses." 

Their horses grazed in the same paddock that 
night, and their charioteers sat at the same fire. 
The warriors lay on beds of rushes ; and the 
healers came with herbs and plants of healing, to 
cure their wounds. Of every herb and healing 
balsam applied to the wounds of Cuchulaind, he 
sent part over the ford to Ferdiad, and he did like- 
w^ise with the food and drink brous^ht to him. 

Next morning they came again to the ford, and 
this day Cuchulaind had the choice of weapons ; 
and he chose the ''great l)road spear for thrust- 
inir," to be used from their chariots. 

All day the fight lasted, and at night the horses 
were wearied and the charioteers dispirited. 
Again they desisted, and again embraced and 
parted for the night, " their horses in the same 
field and their servants at the same fire." 

This night Ferdiad sent to Cuchulaind part of 
all the rich food and drink and healing herbs sent 
him by the men of Eiriu. Xext day they met 
again, and Ferdiad chose heavy swords for the 
weapons. "We are nearer to the end of the fight," 
said Cuchulaind, " than the thro wins; of the first 



230 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT, 




No. 40. 

A^X'IE^T BRONZE SHIELD.* 



* ''A very beautiful bronze shield, found in a bog forming a 
peninsula or island in Lough Gurr, in the county of Limerick. 
The Royal Irish Academy having purchased this beautiful 
shield from M. Lenihan, Esq., of Limerick, it is now in the 
national museum. It is a flat disc two feet three and three- 
quarter inches in diameter. It has six concentric rings formed 
by about two hundred small hollow bosses about an inch in 
diameter; and in the centre a large somewhat flattened boss, 
six inches internal diameter, called by the French OmblUr 
cV Umbo, and by the Germans the ScMldnabel. The rim is an 
inch and three-quarters in width. The handle is fastened 



HEROIC COMBAT IN ANCIENT IRELAND. 231 




No. 41. 

ANCIENT BRONZE SHIELD. 

across the back of the central boss. On the back of the shield, 
in the third circle from the rim, are two bits of bronze so 
riveted that the heads of the rivets form two of the small 
obverse bosses. These bits of bronze served to sling the shield 
over the shoulders. [Figures 40 and 41 represent the face and 
back of this shield.] The central boss or umbilicus of some 
Irish shields must have been formed by a spike which could 
be thrust into the face of an enemy. This was, perhaps, the 
Gllech cuach coicrindi or flesh mangling cu^-Gilech or cup- 
spear, which was on the speckled blow-dealing shield of Laeg- 
haire Baadach.''^ — 0'' Curry s ''Manners and Customs,'''' 



2o2 ETHICS OF BOXING AND 31ANLY SPORT. 

day or the thrusting of the seaond, by the hewmg 
of to-day." They fought from behind their "long 
great shiekls," and both men were many times 
and deeply wounded, w^ien the darkness fell. 
When they gave their weapons to the charioteers 
they were mournful and silent ; they did not em- 
brace each other ; their horses were not in the 
same field that nii^iit ; their charioteers were not 
at the same fire. 

" Then Ferdiad arose early next morning, and went forward 
alone to the ford of battle. For he kne^\' that that day would 
decide the fight ; he knew that either of them should fall on 
that day there, or that they both would fall." 

"And it was then he put on his battle-suit of combat, before 
the coming of Cuchulaind. And that suit of combat was 
[as follows] : He put on his apron of striped silk, with its 
border of spangled gold, next his white skin. He put on his 
apron of brown leather, well sewn, over that, on the lower part [of 
his body]. He put on a flat stone outside over this apron; and 
again, outside this, a deep apron of purified iron, through fear 
of the (jae-hohj (the belly-dart), on that day. He put his 
crested helmet on his head, in which were forty gems, carbun- 
cles, in each compartment, and it was also studded with crystals, 
cruan, and rubies from the East. He took his sharp- i3ointed 
strong spear into his right hand. He took his curved sword 
upon his left side, with its golden hilt and pommels. He took 
his large bossed shield on the slope of his back." 

When Cuchulaind came to the ford the fight 
began w^ith missive weapons (javelins,) and con- 
tinued till noon. And when midday came, the 
ire of the men became more furious, and they 



HEROIC C031BAT IN ANCIENT IRELAND. 233 

drew nearer to each other. And then it was that 
Cuchuhiind sprang from the l)rink of tlie ford, 
and hiino; on the boss of the shield of Ferdiad 
for the purpose of striking him on the head over 
the upper rim of the shield. And Ferdiad gave 
the shield a l^low of his riu'lit elbow and cast 
Cuchulaind from him like a kid from the brink 
of the ford. Cuchulaind sprang from the brink 
and ao:ain cluno- to the boss of the shield, and was 
again flung off*, Ferdiad striking the shield with 
his left knee. 

Then Laeir, the charioteer of Cuchulaind, 
reproached his master, who, with a mighty spring, 
again leaped at Ferdiad, caught the boss of his 
shield, and was flun<>: headforemost into the 
middle of the ford. 

A dreadful close-fio'ht followed, in which the 
very shields were unriveted and bent, and the 
Bocanaclis and Bananachs and wild people of the 
salens and demons of the air ''screamed from the 
rims of the shields and the hilts of the swords, 
and hafts of the spears." The champions fought 
with heavy swords, and at length Ferdiad buried 
his blade in Cuchulaind's body, making a deep 
l)ut not deadly wound ; and still he rained on 
Cuchulaind his irreat strokes. 

''Cuchulaind could not endure this; and he 
asked Laeg, son of Kiangabra, for the gae-bolg." 



234 ETH1C8 OF BOXING ASD MAXLY SPORT. 

" When Ferdiad heard the gae-bolg aien- 
tioned, he made a stroke of the spear downward 
to protect his k)wer body. Cuchuhund thrust 
his spear over Ferdiad's shield and wounded him, 
and then quickly setting the gae-bolg between 
the toes of his feet, he cast it at Ferdiad. It 
pierced the wrought-iron apron, broke the stone 
beneath, and entered his body, ' so that every 
cavity of him was filled with l)arbs.'" 

" That is enough, indeed," said Ferdiad ; '' I fall 
of that." 

Cuchulaind ran to him, raised him tenderly, 
and carried him across the ford, in order that 
there should be no question of his victory. Then 
laying him down, he swooned beside him. AVhen 
he recovered, he himented over the corse of his 
foeman. Laeg came and stripped Ferdiad. 

" Good, O my friend Laeg," said Cuchulaind, 
" open Ferdiad now, and take the gae-bolg out 
of him, for I cannot afford to he icltliout my 
iveapon,^' 

Laeg came and opened Ferdiad, and took the 

gae-bolg out of him ; and Cuchulaind laid his 

red w^eapon l)y the Avhite side of Ferdiad, and 

lamented anew : 

" O Ferdiad! sorrowful is tliy fate! 
That I should see thee so gory and pale ; 
Having my weapon yet unwashed, 
And thou a blood- streaming man. 



HEKOIC COMBAT IX ANCIENT IRELAND. 235 

Sad is tlie deed wliicli lias come of it : 
We the i)upils of 8catliacli, 
I, all woiinded and red with gore, 
Thou, thy chariot no longer driving." 

" GoodjO CLicIiulaiiid/'saidLaeg, "let us leave 
this ford now. Too loniz; are we here." 

''We shall leave now, indeed, O my friend 
Laeo*,'' said Cucliulaind ; " but every other combat 
that I have made was to me as a game and a sport 
compared with this fight with Ferdiad ! " 



It is impossible in brief space to convey the 
richness of imagery, the subtle character-sketch- 
ing, and the minute detail of this noble and 
ancient poem. The future has brilliant crowns 
for Erinn besides those she may win politically. 
The re-establishment of her literary and artistic 
genius, the verification of her ancient and unceas- 
ing claim, the proving her root to have its deep 
hold in the earliest known fields of the human 
race, — this is part of the duty and responsibility 
that rest^ on the shoulders of the Irish race of 
the present. 



236 ET111C8 or BOXING and manly spokt. 



VIII. 

A GLANCE BACKWARD AND FORWARD. 

The retrospect induced by the study of these 
Irish antiquities may well lead the modern reader 
to a consideration of Ireland's native resources 
and power to become once more a great nation. 
The charges of those who declare that her present 
poverty and unrest are natural and inevital)le, are 
easily disproved l)y the records of past and pres- 
ent. In all ages of her history, Ireland was re- 
markable as a land of abundant wealth. Vener- 
able Bede says of ancient Ireland, that " for 
wholesomeness and serenity of climate, Ireland 

far surpasses Britain The Island 

abounds in milk and honey, is not without vines, 
and is famous for the chase of fish, fowl, stags, 
an I roes." * 

Three hundred years ago the illustrious Eng- 
lish poet, Spenser, who had lived many years in 
Ireland, thus described the country: ''And sure 
it is a most beautiful and sweet country as 
any under heaven, being stored throughout with 
many goodly rivers, replenished with all sorts of 

*Eccl. Hist. bk. i., c. 1. 



A GLANCE BACKWARD AND FORWARD. 237 

tish al)undanlly ; sprinkled with many very sweet 
islands and goodly lakes, like little inland seas, 
that will carry even ships upon their waters ; 
adorned with goodly woods ; also filled with 
good ports and havens ; l)eside the soyle itself 
most fertile, lit to yield all kind of fruit that 
shall be committed thereto. And lastely, the 
climate most mild and temperate." * 

Two hundred and liftv vears ao-o. Sir John 
Davies, another eminent Englishman, wrote about 
Ireland as follows : '' I have visited all the prov- 
inces of that kingdom in sundry journeys and 
circuits, wherein I have observed the good tem- 
perature of the air, the fruitfulness of the soil, 
the pleasant and commodious seats for habita- 
tions, the safe and large ports and havens lying 
open for traffic into all the west parts of the 
Avorld ; the long inlets of many navigable rivers, 
and so many great lakes and fresh ponds within 
the land, as the like are not to be seen in any 
part of Europe ; the rich fishings and wild fowl 
of all kinds ; and lastly, the bodies and minds of 
the people endued with extraordinary abilities by 
nature." f 

In Browne's " Essays on Trade," published in 

* " View of the State of Ireland." 

t '' Historical Tracts," by Sir John Davies, Attorney- Gen- 
eral of Ireland. 



238 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

London in the year 1728, this is the report on 
Ireland: '^Ireland is, in respect of its situation, 
the nunil3er of its commodious harbors, and the 
natural wealth which it produces, the fittest island 
to acquire wealth of any in the European seas ; for 
as by its situation it lies the most commodious 
for the West Indies, Spain, and the Northern and 
Eastern countries, so it is not only supplied by 
nature with all the necessities of life, but can 
over and above export large quantities to foreign 
comitries, insomuch that had it been mistress of 
its trade, no nation in Europe of its extent could 
in an equal number of years acquire greater 
wealth." 

''Ireland," says Newenham, writing eighty 
years ago on industrial topics, ''greatly surpasses 
her sister country, England, in the aggregate of 
the endowments of nature. . . . Enirland, 
abounding in wealth beyond any other country 
in Europe, cannot boast of one natural advantage 
which Ireland does not possess in a superior 
de«:ree. 



9' * 



With respect to the soil," says M. Carey 
(" Vindiciie Hibernicae," Philadelphia, 1823) , 
Ireland is blest in the highest degree. Arthur 
Young, an English traveller, who devoted half 

*" View of the N'atural, Political, and Commercial Circum- 
stances of Ireland," by T. N'ewenham, London. 1809. 



A GLANCE BACKWARD AND FORWARD. 



239 



his life to agricultural investigations, has pro- 
nounced sentence on this point, from which there 
is no appeal. He says, comparing England and 
Ireland, that natural fertility, acre for acre, over 
the two kingdoms, is certainly in favor of Ire- 
land."* 

''There is probably not a country in the world," 
says Newenham, "which, for its extent, is one- 
half so abundantly supplied with the most pre- 
cious minerals and fossils as Ireland."! 

It is not too sanguine to express the hope 



* '' Tour in Ireland." Edit. 1780. 

t " There is not a county in Ireland which does not contain 
some valuable mineral or fossil; several of them, it is now 
ascertained, abound with treasures of this sort; and these, for 
the greater part, are most happily situated for the exportation 
of their products, either in a rude or manufactured state." — 
Neivenham. 

Ireland contains the following thirty different sorts of 
minerals and fossils, the figures prefixed denoting the number 
of counties in which they have been discovered, viz. : 



2. Garnites. 
7. Granite. 
1. Gypsum. 
19. Iron. 

1. Jasper. 
16. Lead. 

2. Manganese. 
9. Clays of various 19. Marble. 

sorts. 15. Ochres. 

5. Fuller's -earth. 2. Pearls. 

1. Gold. 

"The gold mine at Croghan, in the county of Wicklow, 
began to attract attention about the year 1795. According to 



2. Amethysts. 

1. Antimony. 
15. Coal. 

1. Cobalt. 
17. CoiDper. 

1. Chalcedony 

8. Crystals. 



4. Pebbles. 

2. Petrifactions. 
1. Porphyry. 

1. Silicious sand. 

3. Silver. 
6. Slate. 

1. Soap-stone. 

1. Spars. 

2. Sulphur. 
2. Talc. 



240 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

that at last the sun is risins; from the lono' nio'ht 
of Ireland's sufferino' and heroic struo^o'le for a 
nation's risfhts. It means much for civilization that 
a people so originally gifted as the Irish should 
have free scope to express its national genius in 
all the forms of art, learning and freedom. The 
ancient glory can be renewed, with increased lustre. 
An island must become famous for wealth, even 
among the wealthy, that is so full of natural 



a calculation made on the subject, the sum of £10,000 was 
paid, at the rate of £3 15s. per ounce, to the country i)eople, 
for the gold which they collected. Before the government took 
possession of the mine, there was found one piece of gold 
which weighed twenty-two ounces, and which is believed to be 
the largest ever found in Europe. From the commencement 
of the works to June 1801, there were found 599 ounces of 
gold." — Newenham. 

"Mr. Lawson, an English miner, stated in evidence before 
the Irish House of Commons, that the iron-stone at Arigna 
[the iron- field of Arigna is six square miles in extent] lay 
in beds of from three to twelve fathoms deep; and that it 
could be raised for two shillings and sixpence the ton, which 
is five shillings cheaiDcr than in Cumberland ; that the coal in 
the neighborhood was better than any in England, and could 
be raised for three shillings and sixpence the ton; and that it 
extended six miles in length, and five in breadth. He also 
stated that fire-brick clay, and free-stone of the best qualities, 
were in the neighborhood, and that a bed of potter's clay ex- 
tended there two miles in length, and one in breadth. Mr. 
Clarke, on the same occasion, declared that the iron-ore was 
inexhaustible. And our distinguished countryman, Mr. Kirwan, 
whose opinions on mineralogical subjects few will attempt to 
refute, affirmed that the Arigna iron was better than any iron 
made from any species of single ore in England." — Newenham. 



A GLANCE BACKWARD AND FORWARD. 241 

resources, of precious and useful minerals, gold, 
silver, iron, copper, zinc, antimony, coal, of 
marble, porphyry and various building stones, of 
artistic and useful clays, of rare glass-sand, of 
inexhaustible fisheries, of incomparable water- 
power, of singular fertility of soil, of rare native 
popular intelligence and versatility of mind ; and, 
added to all these, with a position unequalled for 
commercial advantages, set down in the high- 
road of the w^orld's traffic, the first land in Europe 
from the West, w^here every traveller across the 
Atlantic w^ould land, and w^hence every traveller 
for the outer world w^ould embark. 

When the world w^as j^oung, Ireland proved 
her capacity by leading in the civilization of 
Northern Europe. Even the broken leaves 
and branches of her native customs and litera- 
ture, preserved in this article on ancient w^eapons 
and games, are proof to the eye and the mind, 
over-riding the aspersions of illiteracy and pre- 
judice. 

In her unexampled struggle of seven centuries, 
during the latter three of which the nation has 
been prostrate, bound, and gagged, the native 
arts and industries and varied learning have died 
or have been destroyed by the stupid conqueror. 
The language of the Celt has been suppressed ; 
but he has learned the tongue of his oppressor, 



242 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

and enriched it with memories and imaoinino^s of 
his own. 

And in the latest day, Irehmd is stronger and 
more hopeful than when the long fight began. 
She is conquering her enemy by the highest 
form of victory — by conversion. 

The illustrious Eno:lishman, who is leadino- the 
higher morality and intelligence of his country- 
men, Mr. Gladstone, says: "Under the most 
cruel pressure of tyranny and torture, in every 
form, without beino: invested with suffrasfe or 
power, the Irish people has maintained its own 
vitality and the integrity of its traditions. . . . 
We must reverse the judgment w^hich the civilized 
world has formed, to the effect that England, 
great and pure, and bright in most of the recol- 
lections of her history, has one dark, blurred and 
blotted space on that page w^hich describes her 
dealinofs with the sister island, and w^hich, instead 
of beinof, as it ouaht to be, an honor to the 
greatest of free countries, would be a dishonor 
to the most despotic and enslaved. Irishmen 
will hope, must hope, ought to hope, and in the 
train of that hope will come victory ; and in the 
train of victory, liberty ; and in the train of liberty, 
peace ; and in the train of peace, the restitution 
of that orood name to En«:land, which will then, 
indeed, be relieved from the last blot resting 
upon it." 



CANOEING ON THE CONNECTICUT. 



The canoe is the American l)oat of the past and 
of the future. It suits the American mind : it is 
light, swift, safe, graceful, easily moved; and the 
occupant looks in the direction he is going, in- 
stead of behind, as in the stupid old tubs that 
have held the world up to this time. 

Who, amono: the hard workers of our eastern 
cities, needs two months' vacation, and can only 
get away from the desk or office for two weeks ? 

Who feels the confined work tell on his lungs, 
or his eyes, or shudders at that tremulousness of 
the shoulders and arms which precedes the break- 
ino:-down from over-w^ork ? 

All this can be cured by the sun and the wind 
and the delicious splash of the river on face 
and breast and arms. Those are they to whom a 
canoe is a godsend. They can get more health 
and strength and memorable joy out of a two- 
weeks' canoe trip than from a lazy, expensive and 

i24P>) 



244 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

sea-sick voyage to Europe, or three months' 
dawdle at a fashionable watermg-place. 

Boats are for work; canoes are for pleasure. 
Boats are artificial ; canoes are natural. In a boat 
you are always an oar's-length and a gunwale's- 
height away from Nature. In a canoe you can 
steal up to her bower and peep into her very 
bosom. 

What memories are stored away in the canoe- 
ist's mind ! My friend, Dr. Ramon Guiteras, and 
I have canoed together in many rivers, in the 
same little Racine boat (though w^e now believe 
that it is preferable to have only one man to a 
canoe), and we can enjoy rare hours of reminis- 
cence, recallins: delis^htful scenes and amusino' in- 
cidents from this or that excursion. And let two 
canoeists, strangers, meet : their talk is an end- 
lessly-pleasant comparison. 

Going on this trip on the Connecticut, when 
we took our boat to the Boston and Maine depot, 
in Boston, we found another canoe in the baoforacre 
car. I happened to know one of the gentlemen 
who was tying it up, Mr. Morris Meredith, an 
experienced canoeman ; and with him was a veteran 
of many rivers, Mr. Frank Hubbard, of Boston. 
What a chat of hours we had ! What rapids we 
ran over again ! What tender touches of memory 
w^hen some river scene familiar to all was brouo^ht 



CANOEING ON THE CONNECTICUT. 245 

up ! And how unselfishly these two canoemen 
(who were going on a two- weeks' cruise on Lake 
Champlain) tore their chart in two, and gave 
us that part which included the Connecticut 
River. 

When Dr. Guiteras and I started from Boston, 
we intended to take water at White-River Junc- 
tion ; but, when we reached that place, we found 
the river full of logs, — the largest quantity ever 
cut in one year going down this season. But the 
'^end of the logs" was only a few miles above 
the White River ; and we were told that, by go- 
ing farther up, we should have it all clear as we 
came down, and might follow the logs to Holyoke. 

So we took our little boat farther up, till we 
came to a favorable spot for launching, and there 
we slid her into the river from a marvellous 
white sand-bank, which ran into the deep, slow 
stream, and from which we took our first glorious 
" header" into the Connecticut. 

All along the river, down to Middletown, hun- 
dreds of miles aw\ay, we found, at intervals, this 
remarkable kind of sand-bank on which one may 
take a race, and dive directly into deep water. 
And yet the bank is not straight, under water, 
but a rapid incline, easy and pleasant for landing. 

What need of details ? Miles in a voyage are 
of no more account than years in a life : they may 



246 ETHICS or boxing and manly sport. 

be filled with commonplace. Men live by events, 
and so they paddle. 

We had ten, fifteen, twenty days ahead, if 
necessary ! We were rich in this. Hundreds of 
miles of beautiful water, splendid days, a new- 
moon, a well -stored locker, and a boat that 
danced under us like a duck ! So we started, 
dripping from the embrace of the sw^eet water. 

We paddled about fifteen miles, when we saw a 
tempting nook, a pine grove above a sand-bank, 
with a dashing stream ; and, not far withdrawn, 
a comfortable farm-house, where we might buy 
milk and e^g's and bread. As we had started 
late, we landed for the night, and one set off* for 
the farm-house, while the other made ready for 
supper. 

We had a copious larder. We carried too 
many things, observers said. So we did , but we 
both liked many things when we stopped for 
meals. Our table was the sand-bank, with a 
rubber blanket spread. Olives, cheese, sardines, 
bacon, Liebig's extract of beef, — these looked 
well. Then came the farm supplies, — quarts of 
rich milk, a dozen eggs, two loaves of bread, and 
a lot of cooked green peas, thrown in by the 
f irmer's wife ; a bottle of good claret. What a 
dinner and supper in one ! Then coffee, then a 
cigar, then the philosophies, — quiet talk as we 



CANOEING ON THE CONNECTICUT. 247 

sat looking at the river with the darkness coming 
down, the fro2:s sounding' resonant notes over on 
the New Hampshire side, and the white light of 
the young moon trembling up over the dark pine 
hills. Then we wrapped ourselves in our blank- 
ets, and slept till morning. 

We had no tent ; we two had discovered that 
w^e needed no tent in July or August, though we 
do not advise others to follow our example. For- 
tunately for us, w^e wake in the early morning 
with the same feelins; of refreshment, — our lun^rs 
full of the delicious air, and our faces w^et with 
dew. On this first morning, I leaped up at sun- 
rise, shouting: -^'This is the way Nature meant 
men to live and sleep and wake ! '' 

I shall never forsret that first o^lorious mornini>:. 
For an hour before rising, I had lain awake look- 
ino; out at the river, and listenino- to the strano-e 
country sounds around me. All over the grass 
and low l:>ushes, the spider's webs were stretched, 
o^listenini^ with dew. What a Avonderful nio:ht's 
industry ! Those webs were nearly all, or quite 
all, new. The little ni2:ht-toilers had woven them 
over our olive bottle, over the o:un, over our- 
selves. The field above us was white as snow 
with this incomparable cloth-of-silver. 

As I lay and looked at one of those webs close 
to my face, I saw a strange thing. A little gray- 



248 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPOKT. 

and-black spider ran up a tall grass blade, rested 
a moment, and then ran off, through empty air, 
to another blade, six inches off. I looked closer; 
surely he must have a fine line stretched between 
those points, I thought. No ; the closest scrutiny 
could find none. I watched him ; he was soon 
off again, straight for another point, a foot above 
the srround, runninof on clear space, and turning 
down and hanging to it, like a monkey, but still 
going ahead. I called Guiteras, and he came and 
saw and examined, and smiled in his wise way 
when he don't know. We could not see the little 
fellow's cable, or railway, or bridge. He Avas as 
much finer than we as we are finer than mas- 
todons. 

And the birds, in that first rich morning speech 
of theirs, full of soft, bubbling joy, not singing, 
but softly and almost silently overflowing. Two 
little fellows flew^ rapidly down to a twig near us, 
and beo^an bubble-bubblino: as if in a OTeat flutter 
and hurry ; and immediately they flew far and 
high, as for a long journey; at which my philo- 
sophic friend moralized : 

"Those little fellows are like some canoeists 
who wake up, and don't wait for breakfast; but 
bubble-bubble, hurry -hurry, get-afloat, we-have- 
a-long-way-to-go ! Now, ive don't do that." 

Indeed, we do not. This is what we do. We 



CANOEING ON TJIE CONNECTICUT. 24J 

light our little alcohol stove, and boil two quarts 
of the rich milk, into which we put our prepared 
coffee (Sanford's, — a great and precious com- 
pound, which we heartily recommend to all men 
fond of outing). Then we plunge into the river 
for a «^ood swim, oetthio- the first of the sun as he 
comes over the hill. The sand-bank is soft to 
land on ; and so up we go to the meadow^ above, 
for a four-round bout with l)oxino*-cyloves ; and, 
when this is done, we are in good trim for break- 
fast. 

Here let me say that we were never sorry when 
we selected a white sand-])ank or a pine grove to 
sleep in ; the latter to l)e preferred, on account of 
the soft pine needles, the healthy fragrance, and 
the absence of mosquitoes. If the sand-bank is 
chosen, first scoop out a hollow for the hips and 
shoulders; spread the rubber blanket, and then 
the woollen blanket ; turn the latter bag-like up 
from the feet, and draw the rubber over all. 
Then your couch is as soft as a feather-bed, and 
a hundred times healthier. 

After ])reakfast, two hours of easy paddling, 
during which we keep the gun ready, and usually 
kill about a half dozen birds to enrich our dinner. 
Then follow two hours of hard paddling, which 
prepares us for dinner and a rest. After this, 
two hours of easy paddling, and two hours of 



250 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

hard paddling. Then supper ; after which, a 
slow and easy, meditative paddle in search of 
pine grove or sand bank. This was our regular 
daily programme, and its worth was shown by 
our excellent condition when we reached the end 
of the river. 

Events by the way — how shall I recall them, 
crowded as they are ? AVe were upset : it was in 
this way. We had carried our boat round a ftill, 
where the logs ran so furiously that nothing else 
had a chance to run. At about eis^ht o'clock in 
the evening we floated her, below the falls, in- 
tending just to paddle down till we found a place 
to sleep. We did not know, from the dusk, that 
the rapids extended for miles below the falls. 
We soon found the water extremely strong and 
swift, full of eddies and whirls, and mixed up 
with tumbling and pushing logs. It was the 
ugliest race we had seen or did see on all the 
river. We swept down like an arrow for about 
half a mile, and then a thunder-storm of ex- 
traordinary violence and continuity burst. The 
night became pitch-dark. We could only see 
the black river, runninof like a wolf at the irun- 
wale, and the liaiitnino- ziofzaorofino; the nis^ht 
above. Suddenly, we realized that the logs on 
our left were stationary, while those in the stream 
on our riirht were tearins; down like batterinoj- 



CANOEING ON THE CONNECTICUT. 251 

rams. So long as you go icitli the logs they are 
gentle as friendly savages, just rubbing you softly 
like livino^ thins^s, and movable with a fino^er. 
But get fast, and let them come down on you, 
and the ribs of a boat will smash like a match- 
box under their brutal drive and the jagged fibres 
of their tapered butt-ends. The logs on our left 
were stationary ; but the rapid water boiled up 
between them. AVe ran swiftly along two great 
logs — then suddenly stopped. An immense log 
had been forced up and across its fellows, and as 
its farther end was driven swiftly forward, its 
heavy butt came straight for the canoe. Dr. 
Guiteras got the first blow, on the head and 
shoulder, which rather keeled us. Then the log 
took me fairly on the chest, and over and down 
we went. For some seconds, Guiteras's feet 
havino; o;ot fast somehow in the boat forward, he 
was in a bad way ; but he soon kicked free, and 
we swam at our ease with the boat down the 
river. 

To men who can swim well enough not to lose 
their presence of mind by a sudden upset, there 
is little danger m canoeing — probably no more 
than in ridins:. It is well, thouo^h, to know what 
to do when you find yourself rolling into the 
water. When you come up, the canoe is, of 
course, bottom-side up. By catching hold of her 



2o2 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

keel, she is easily righted. If there be two 
swimmers, they should take the two sides, hold- 
ins: her with one hand and swimmins; w^ith the 
other. They can pass through any kind of sea 
in this fashion, safely, and even w^ith pleasure. 
If there be only one in the canoe, he ought to 
hold her by the stern or painter ring w^ith one 
hand, and swim with the other. If he attempt 
to hold her by the side he will surely upset her 
again. It is good drill to upset your canoe in 
safe water half a dozen times, and get used to it, 
as we did on the day following our ducking. 

We lost, strange to say, only a few insignificant 
articles. Everything in the locker w^as safe, and 
even dry, including our watches. The gun had 
not rolled out. 

To ^o into further detail would o:ive the affair 
more weight than it deserves. I shall only say 
that in our difficulty we were kindly and courage- 
ously helped by Mr. Woodman, a farmer on the 
shore, for whom we shall long keep a friendly 
feelinir. 

This w^as our only mishap of a serious nature. 
Of course, we got into many tight places ; canoe- 
ists must expect it. But we emerged without 
turning a hair, and we paid for all our troubles 
with endless interest and enjo3^ment. 

We laughed at all thinijs that came : at a 



CANOEING ON THE CONNECTICUT. 253 

memory of last year ; at simple questions by the 
country lads, who sat with us at times while we 
feasted, but who never would join us, being shy 
and proud ; at a certain stupid kind of bird that 
waited every day to be shot ; we laughed infinitely 
at the logs, when we learned their waj^s ; we 
named them, patted their rough backs, or rubbed 
the old bald ones ; we leaped out and rode on 
them, and tried to walk on them like the logmen, 
and always tumbled in, and came up blowing and 
laughing. 

This reminds me of a story. We had stopped 
near a camp of logmen, and they paid us a visit. 
Among them was a l)ig brawny fellow, who evi- 
dently was full of conceit, and who, we were 
quietly told, had been l)ragging all the season of 
his prowess as a boxer. It was Sunday evening, 
and he was dressed as a heavy swell, cloth trou- 
sers, silver watch, a ''biled" shirt, etc. When 
the loggers saw the l)oxing-gloves, they wanted 
their heavy man to spar. Guiteras (the best 
heavy-weight ever known at Harvard and the 
Cribb Club) was willing to set-to with him. But 
the big fellow "didn't feel Avell to-day"; he 
would only smile in a superior way. 

At last we got afloat and shoved oft\ Then the 
big fellow jumped up and ran out on some logs in 
the river, and bared his arm to the shoulder. 



254 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

''Look at that!" he shouted, as his biceps 
crept up to his shoulder like a cat. 

At that moment, he slipped off the log and dis- 
appeared in the deep water, starched shirt, watch, 
cloth trousers and all : and the hills roared in 
concert with the loainen and canoemen as he 
floundered out and crept, dripping, to the shore. 

We had another queer experience with an an- 
tagonist ^vho " took it out of us," at least for a 
day — the sun. We make a point of wearing as 
little covering as possible — no hats, no sleeves, 
no shoes while in the boat. Healthy men are 
never sun-struck. Alcohol-stroke or toil-stroke 
or stomach-stroke is the real name of sun-stroke. 
If the bare head feels warm in a boat, moisten it 
and it becomes deliciously cool. 

But sun-burn is another thino;, and it must be 
looked to until the skin touo^hens. It must not 
be cooled with water, for every drop becomes a 
burning lens, to score a deeper mark. On our 
fourth day out we were badly sun-burnt. Guite- 
ras on that day had swam from 10 a. m. to 5 p. m., 
making about fifteen miles. The sun had taken 
hold of our shoulders, arms and face, and next day 
we were both feverish and cross-grained. Every 
movement was painful. We stopped at a village 
and bought half a pound of bi-carl)onate of soda 
(common baking soda). That night we made a 



CANOEING ON THE CONNECTICUT. 255 

thick solution, poured it over the burnt parts and 
put on tight cotton shirts with long sleeves In 
the morning the pain was gone, though the l)lis- 
tered flesh remained. 

Here is an experience of ''cures " for sun-burn ; 
we tried many remedies, some on one arm, some 
on another; some on our faces, and others on our 
necks. We tried Nature's remedy — let it alone — 
and the burns treated in this way were the first 
to get well. Moral: do nothing for a sun-burn 
but to take it out of the sun for a day or two. 

As we came down the river one thing was 
noticeable and very enjoyable — the courtesy and 
kindness of every one on the banks. At Brattle- 
boro we found two gentlemen who owned canoes 
(Mr. Harry Lawrence and Mr. Fred. L. Howe), 
who lent us a pair of single paddles, and who were 
otherwise exceedingly kind. 

At Springfield we stopped long enough for me 
to lecture in the evening (by previous arrange- 
ment). There was a large audience, and Guiteras 
sat on the platform, brown as an Indian, and fell 
asleep. Fortunately he was shielded by a large 
tropical plant. We stopped that night at the 
hospitable house of my friend Father O'Keefe, of 
West Springfield, who made the hours short for 
us. 

We had been told that the beauty of the Con- 



256 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPORT. 

necticut ended at Springfield ; but it is not so. 
Indeed, one of the loveliest stretches lies between 
Hartford and Middletown, though the river under 
Mt. Tom and Mt. Holyoke is surpassingly beau- 
tiful. 1 never saw more deliohtful scenerv than 
in the river valley just above and below North- 
ampton. 

And- let no canoeist pass Springfield without 
visiting the famous United States arsenal, where, 

" From floor to ceiling, 
Like a huge organ, rise tlie burnished arms." 

Now^here in the w^orld is there a nobler view than 
from the tower of this building. This is a super- 
lative word, but it was the opinion of the great 
Humboldt, who, on a famous European river, 
said: "There is nothing finer than this, except 
the view from the Arsenal at Springfield." 

At Hartford, the Canoe Club met us most 
kindly, and its commodore, Mr. Jones, made our 
stay bright and our departure memorable. 

From Hartford to Middletow^n is one of the 
finest stretches of the Connecticut, and it is bv 
no means low-banked or monotonous. One of 
the peculiarities of the river is that it is almost 
as wide and apparently as deep at Hanover as in 
this latest reach. 

It is not necessary to go a great distance up 




t 





CANOEING ON THE CONNECTICUT. 257 

the Connecticut to find splendid canoeing water. 
If one had only a week's time, and entered the 
river at Brattleboro', or below Turner's Falls, he 
would find enough beauty to remember for a life- 
time. 

The distances on the river appear to be quite 
unknown to residents on the l)anks, who evidentlv 
judge by road measurement. We found, in most 
cases, that the river distance was at least a third 
to a half longer than the road. 

One of our rarest pleasures came from paddling 
for a few miles up the smaller rivers that run into 
the Connecticut. They are invariably beautiful, 
and the smaller ones are indescribable as fairy- 
land. 

One stream, particularly (1 think it is a short 
distance below White-River Junction, on the New 
Hampshire side), called Bromidon, was, in all re- 
spects, an ideal brook. It had the merriest voice ; 
the brownest and most sun-flecked shallows ; the 
darkest little nooks of deep, leafy pools ; the most 
happy-looking, creeper-covered homesteads on 
its banks. We could hardly paddle into it, it 
was so shallow ; or out of it, it was so beau- 
tiful. Guiteras wanted to write a poem about it. 
'' The name is a poem in itself," he said ; '^ any 
one could write a poem about such a stream." 
All the way down the river his muttered '' Brom- 



258 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOUT. 

idon ! " was like the self-satisfied bubble-bubble 
of the morning birds. 

This leads me to say that, in the rapid growth 
of canoeino-, which is surely coming, it is to be 
hoped that the paddle will be the legitimate 
means of propulsion, and not the sail. If men 
want to sail, let them get keel-boats and open 
water. The canoe was meant for lesser surfaces. 
Indeed, the smaller the river, the more enjoyable 
the canoeing. A few feet of surface is wide 
enoush. With the quiet paddle, one can steal 
under the overhanging boughs, drift silently into 
the deep morning and afternoon shadows ; study 
the ever-changing banks, birds, even the splendid 
dragon-flies and^butterflies among the reeds and 

rushes. 

As an athletic exercise, paddling is one of the 
best, or can easily be made so. A canoe trip of 
a couple of weeks, diversified by two good swims 
daily, will bi-ing the whole muscular system into 
thorough working condition. Dr. Guiteras, who 
has had unusual experience in athletic training, 
and has given it special attention, is of opinion 
that no other exercises are so excellent as paddling 
and swimming in conjunction. 

A word about the logs. They are not so bad 
as they look, nor as their general reputation. 
We should, of course, prefer a river without 



canoei:n^g on the Connecticut. 259 

them ; and canoeists on the Connecticut can easily 
avoid them by finding out when they start and 
cease running. But they always keep in the cur- 
rent ; they people the river with odd and interest- 
ing felloAV-voyagers, and they are as harmless as 
sheep in a meadow when you know how to handle 
them. 

Since this trip on the Connecticut, w^e have 
canoed many other rivers, some of them streams 
of much greater volume. We had in these the 
width of w^ater, the calm greatness of the flow, 
the splendid reaches unbroken by falls and rapids 
and dams ; but we often missed the over-hanging 
branches, the flash and twitter among the leaves, 
the shadows that made the river look deep as 
the sky, and the murmur of the little brown 
brooks that are lost in the great stream, leaving 
only their names, like Bromidon, clinging to the 
water like naiads. 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA IN 
CANOE. 



''This river runs palpably down hill!" said 
my friend in the other boat, as our two canoes 
rounded a sweeping curve, and ran down an 
unbroken slope of half a mile. 

So it did. Beautiful ! That first air-borne 
sensation of a sheer slide was not beaten on the 
next hundred miles of river. The water was not 
three feet deep ; clear as air — every pebble seen 
on the bottom, and none larger than your hand; 
and the whole wide river slipping and sliding like 
a o:reat sheet of o-kss out of its frame ! At the 
foot of the sloping water was a little rapid, our 
first on the Susquehanna, which is even more 
truly a river of rapids than a river of bends,, 
thous^h the latter is the meanino: of its melodious 
Indian name. 

We had stopped paddling on the " palpable 
hill," and we let the stream carry our canoes into 

(261) 



262 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

the noisy rapid at its foot. Zigzag it crossed the 
river ; and as I led into a well-defined rushing V, 
aimin- at the ansle, I felt the first grumble of 
a rock along the keel. Next moment we were 
pitchin<r on sharp little white-caps below the rush, 
and sco°oting down toward the swift, deep water. 
We had launched our canoes at Binghamton, 
J. Smith and I, because the river above is too 
low in September. Shame that it should be so I 
The beautiful hills above Binghamton, that a 
few years ago were clothed with rich foliage for 
unbroken leagues, are shorn like a stuhble-field. 
The naked stumps are white and unsightly on the 
mountains, like the bones of an old battle-field. 

A monster has crept up the valley and devoured 
the strono- young trees. Every trunk has been 
swallowed ; and the maw of the dragon is belch- 
i„<r for more. On both sides of the river, and 
throuirh many of the valleys that open back to 
the t^^rm-lands, the railroads wind like serpents ; 
and every foot-long joint in their vertebra is the 
trunk of a twenty-year old tree. The hills stand 
up in the sun, cropped and debased like convicts ; 
their beauty and mystery and shadowed sacred- 
ness torn from them ; their silence and lonelmess 
replaced by the selfish chirp of the grasshopper 
among the drv weeds. Never did the hard utility 
of civilization appear less disguised and less 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 263 

lovely. An Indian warrior begging on Broad- 
way ; a buffalo from the wilds yoked to a market- 
wagon ; any degrading and antagonistic picture 
of life were more endurable and more hopeful 
than these majestic ridges stripped and burned 
into commonplace and repulsive bareness. 

But the injured hills, like all old and strong 
children of nature, curse their destroyer as they 
die. The railroads have killed the trees, and the 
death of the trees is as surely killing the river. 
Year by year its life-blood decreases ; it grows 
narrower, shallower, yet more fitfully dangerous. 
Scores and hundreds of miles it runs, drinking in 
the volume of the streams ; but in all this distance 
its own volume does not increase. 

Marvellous and shocking ! The Susquehanna is 
no deeper at Harrisburg than at Towanda. Its 
evaporation equals its growth. The shorn hills 
can hold no moisture. The rain and dew are 
dried in the morning sun like a breath on a mir- 
ror. But when the heavy clouds roll in and rain 
for weeks, there are no thirsty roots to hold the 
water, no myriad-leafed miles to be drenched 
before a rill is formed below. Then the dried 
veins are suddenly and madly filled, tearmg down 
to the lowlands with unchecked violence. The 
river, swollen with drunken fury, becomes the 
brute that civilization is always making — leap- 



264 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

ing at the bridges, devouring the fields, dehiging 
farm-houses and streets, until its fury is glutted 
on the blind selfishness that gave it birth. 

Pittsburgh riots and Susquehanna devastations 
are children of the same parents, — Greed and 
Ignorance. Beautiful trees and beautiful souls, 
steeped in the coal-pits, scorched by the cinders, 
thundered over by the roaring wheels that carry 
treasures to the cultured and luxurious, there is a 
curse in your defilement and mutilation. Yet our 
moralists and socialists will not listen and under- 
stand. 

But who shall be didactic in a canoe on a river 
that laughs into little rapids every few hundred 
yards ? It was delightful to see Smith take his 
first rapid. He had only canoed before in still 
water. A few miles below Binghamton we heard 
the break of the water, and saw the ziOTao: line 
ahead. Not knowinsr the nature of the thins:, 
whether it was a dam, an " eel-rack," a wood- 
shoot, or a natural shoal, I paddled ahead, and 
took a look at it. There was just one place in 
the line, about three feet wide, where the water 
rushed down like a sluiceway ; and we must go in 
t-here. On one side of this passage, a thin spur 
of black stone rose above the surface, and made 
a good mark to steer by ; but on the other side of 
the sluice was a great round stone, covered with 



DOAVN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 265 

about ^ix inches of rushing water. I paddled 
back and asked Smith to observe exactly where 
my boat entered ; and, turning her head, I let 
her o^o in '^ with the swim." It was a deliirhtful 
little shoot cf about fifty yards, and when I had 
reached the smooth water, I turned to see my 
friend coming down. He neared the rapids, not 
letting his boat drift, but paddling with all his 
force, and moving at tremendous speed down the 
swift water. He was not heading for the open- 
ing, but was coming straight for the big stone at 
the riirht side. No use shouting'; the din of the 
water drowned all other sound. I expected to 
see him strike and swing round, and probably 
get upset and rolled over ; but instead of that, 
the bow of his plucky little boat rose at the stone 
like a steeple-chaser, till I saw half her keel in 
the air, — and then over she came, without a 
scratch, and buried her nose in the deep water 
below the stone, while the canoeist sat straio:ht, 
laughing with excitement, and dripping with the 
shower of spray from the plunge. 

" How did it feel?" I asked." 

" Glorious ! " he shouted. 

He thought he had come down secitiidum artem. 
But before night he knew all about it, for the 
river was so low that every shallow had an angry 
brawl. Next day, with a steady hand and cool 



2(56 ETHICS or boxing and manly spokt. 

head, he found the way out for me when I had 
got mto a bad place. 

It was in this way : I had gone in first on rather 
a lon^ and rouo:h descent. There was a bend on 
the rapid, and in going round I struck heavily 
and unexpectedly, and swung right athwart the 
race, amidships fast on a huge brown shelf-rock. 
The divided water caught l)ow and stern, and 
held the canoe against the stone. I got one foot 
out against the rock and stopped her trembling ; 
and there I was, fast. I could hold her steady, 
but could do no more. The stone was so shaped 
that I could not stand on it. The water ran deep 
and strong, and if I pushed off altogether I 
should be apt to go down broadside or stern first. 
So I sat thinking for a second or two ; and then I 
looked back to wave to Smith to keep oflt\ I saw 
his boat, but not him. He was swimming, " ac- 
coutred as he was," right across the river above, 
to give me a hand. His judgment had told him 
that I was badly placed. In a few minutes he 
had reached the head of the rapid, stepped from 
stone to stone till he caught hold of my ''painter," 
and next moment my bow came round to the race, 
and down I shot like a rocket. In a few minutes 
he followed in the same course. 

Just below that rapid we had an unpleasant 
experience, — the only one on our whole voyage. 



DOWN THE 8U8QUEHANNA. 267 

We fell in with a sordid lout, and up to this day 
I am sorry we did not thrash him or duck him in 
the river. We had gone up to a farm-house on 
the bluff to buy milk and eggs for dinner. Two 
old women had very kindh' served us, and we 
were coming away when the lout appeared. He 
was evidently the master of the place : a big, 
raw-boned, ragged-whiskered, and dirty-skinned 
brute. He had just caught a snake, about two 
feet long, and he held it wriggling in his hand, 
while he laughed a vile chuckle, and opened his 
filthy mouth in derision as the older woman, his 
mother, probably, fled, almost screaming with 
terror. Then he came toward us, and seeing 
Smith's bare ankles he deliberately put the snake 
down to bite them, chuckling all the time, and 
mumblins: : ''You hain't o^ot the sand ! He won't 
bite. / ain't afeard. I^ve got the sand, /ain't 
afeard o' snakes," and so on. 

We stepped aw\ay from him, and at last told 
him, in a tone he minded, to drop the snake. He 
did so at once. His mother said to him from the 
door : ''If you did that to me, and I was a man, 
Fd hill you!'' 

Then the brute insisted on selling us ten cents' 
worth of honey, which he called ''Th' bam'f a 
thaousand flaours " (balm of a thousand flowers) ; 
and, comino^ to the boat, he besfged for a drink, 



268 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

and, at the last moment, wanted us to buy a gal- 
lon of ''old stock ale, seven year old." 

It took us some hours to forget the 1)arbarian. 
A handsome young trapper, logman, and railroad 
worker, lower down, who knew him well, told us 
that the lout was known along the river as a cow- 
ard, a braggart, and '^a man that was no good, 

anyhow." 

The Susquehanna is, in one respect, quite un- 
like any other river on which I have canoed. 
There is an endless recurrence of half-mile and 
mile long deep stretches, and then a brawling 
rapid. The river rarely makes a bend without 
shoaling to a foot or two of water ; and this is 
invariably ended by a bar, with a swift descent 
beyond. These shallow places have been utilized 
as '' eel-racks," by driving stakes or piling stones 
in a zig-zag line across the river. From Towanda 
down to Wilkesbarre, with a bold, wooded hill, 
or "mountain," always on one side, and some- 
times on both, the deep stretches become deeper 
and longer ; but in a very few places is the " slow 
water" more than two or three miles in length. 

We had brought a small tent with us, and we 
carried some provisions, — prepared coftee. Lie- 
big's extract of beef, a jar of delicious butter 
(which we broke and lost on the third day), a 
can of corned beef, some " hard tack," and some 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 2G9 

bacon. We had tin cups, a little alcohol stove, 
and a bottle of very old Jamaica (for the malaria). 

We had two canoes of the " Shadow" model, 
Mr. Smith's, a Eushton, decked and hatched; 
mine without hatches, and built by Partelow, of 
Riverside, Mass.,— both good boats of their kind, 
from good builders. But the " Shadow " is not a 
good kind of canoe for river work. Her keel is 
too long and too deep. This makes her heavy in 
turning sharp curves ; and, when she runs on a 
stone, — even a round or flat one, —the keel 
throws her on one side; and this is really a 
canoe's unpardonable sin. A canoe should have 
no keel. The " Shadow" model is really not a 
canoe at all, but simply a light boat. 

The Indian round-bottomed, birch-bark canoe 
is the best model for American rivers ; and it is a 
pity that our builders do not keep it as their radi- 
cal study. It should be modified and improved, 
of course; narrowed for double paddling, and 
shortened and lightened for portage ; but its first 
principle, of a bottom that can run on or over a 
stone without capsizing, ought never to be for- 
gotten. In my opinion, paper will win against 
lapstreak in the canoe of the future ; all that is 
needed to insure* this is a method of patching the 
wound on a paper bottom. 

Never have I seen river-water so clear and 



270 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

wholesome us the Susquehanna. One of our daily 
pleasures was to dip our bright tin cups into the 
river, drink a mouthful, and pour the rest into 
our mouths without swallowing. 

The sun flamed on the water every day of our 
trip ; the records ashore made it the hottest fort- 
niofht of the year. . So we lovini^ly hu2:2:ed the 
banks when there was any shade ; and, unex- 
pectedly, this habit led us into the two greatest 
pleasures of our voyage. 

The first occurred a few miles above the village 
of Appalaken. We left the main river to run to 
the left of an island, where the stream was only 
twenty feet wide. The island was perhaps three- 
quarters of a mile long, and the trees on both 
sides reached over, interlaced, and made the 
stream as dark as late evening. There was a 
turbulent little rapid at the entrance, as we swung 
in from the big river and the noonday blaze ; and 
the water all down the narrow^ stream ran with 
incredible rapidity. When we felt ourselves car- 
ried along in this silent cool shadow, and looked 
up at the light sifting through the dense foliage, 
we both exclaimed, '' This is too lovely to be re- 
peated ! " And the word was true. Such a super- 
lative canoe-ride one could hardly ever expect to 
enjoy twice. We laid down our paddles, only 
fearing to come to the end of our marvellous green 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 271 

archway, w^ith its dark gleaming floor ; and when, 
at last, we did sweep out into the broad glare of 
the river, we sighed and looked back wistfully, 
as men will. Ten minutes later we were wadins; 
over a shallow place and hauling our canoes by 
the painter. 

The other peak of our enjoyment was reached 
about four miles below the town of Athens. Ah, 
me ! how we did enjoy our evening in that little 
town ! But let the tale bide a little. We had 
gone down some miles below the bridge at Athens, 
where the river widened out and grew consumedly 
slow and commonplace. There was an island, with 
a narrow opening to the left and a rough little 
rapid at the entrance, — almost a repetition of the 
Appalaken archway. After that other experience 
we did not hesitate, but turned from the big sheet 
of water, and shot into the narrow turmoil, to the 
left of the island. Again we dashed into a splen- 
did sweep, but about three times as wide as the 
Appalaken archway. The water was about four 
feet deep all the way down, and the bottom was 
of small pebbles, every one as clearly seen as if 
laid on a mirror. Once more our paddles were 
crossed before us, and we sat in profound enjoy- 
ment of water, wood, and sky, as we were sw^ept 
along by the current. Half-way down, we landed 
on the island, intendinoj to float in the water and 



272 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

be carried down after the canoes, holding on by 
the '' painter." 

And here we made a discovery that will re- 
dound to the fame of Athens, — a discovery which 
we present to that town in memory of the genial 
hospitality of one of its chief citizens, the Rev. 
Father Costello, who gave us an evening not to 
be forgotten. Here let me tell how, baked and 
burned and tired and hungry and thirsty, on the 
night preceding our discovery, we walked up to 
the house of the good priest at sunset, and were 
met at the open door with outstretched hands of 
welcome; and how, before a word was spoken, 
we were handed two great goblets filled with iced 
^vine, — rich, fruity, American wine ; and how we 
sat down to a dinner for epicures, even if it were 
Friday ; and how we then were taken into the 
little moonlit garden, with good cigars, and other 
comforts, while our amiable and accomplished 
host charmed us with quaint fancy and strange 
learning, and played for us on the flute so softly 
that it could not be heard fifty feet away, but so 
exquisitely that we knew we were listening to 
the soul of a poet and a master ; and how simply 
and tenderly he told us that he had discovered a 
similarity between his little Athens in the Penn- 
sylvania hills and the immortal Athens of the 
Acropolis. 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 273 

''Look around," cried Father Costello, point- 
ing to the perfect circle of bold mountains, that 
were blue even in the moonlight ; " those hills are 
a perfect coronet. This, too, is the City of the 
Violet Crown!" 

Now for our discovery : we give it to Athens 
with only one condition, — that henceforth the 
citizen who shall call his town Aythens shall ))e 
disfranchised or excluded from good society, or 
both. 

Half-way down between the island and the 
shore we plunged into the swift current, intend- 
ing to float after the canoes, holding on by the 
painter, — a most enjoyable and interestino; thino; 
to do. When you lie at utter rest in the water 
and watch the shore go by, it seems too delicious 
for waking life ; but this is not the best. Let 
your whole body and' head sink well under the 
surface, keeping your eyes open ; the river be- 
comes an aquarium, — you see the weeds, the 
stones, and the fishes as clearly almost as if they 
were in the air. This is because you have no 
motion except the motion of the water itself; 
your eyes are fixed in a crystalline medium, and 
nothing can express the sense of ease, of utter 
luxury, which the supporting fluid gives to every 
limb. You are lolling on or in an air-cushion 
without surface or friction. The mere swimmer 



274 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

can never feel this, nor even he who is towed after 
a boat, — thou«:h that is an ideal method of takins; 
an invigorating bath. To see the river's inner 
life, and to enjoy this complete luxury of resting 
in the water, you must float in and with the 
stream, without effort or motion, supported by 
the painter of your boat. 

But our discoveiy w\aits : half-way down this 
lovely and lonely island passage we plunged in, 
as I have many times said ; and we had no sooner 
struck bottom than Smith uttered a strange shout 
and threw^ up his hands. I was startled till I 
looked at his face ; and then I was puzzled beyond 
measure by his motions and expressions. With 
his hands above his head, he seemed to be danc- 
ing on the bottom of the river, and with every 
step he gave a shout of pleasure. While I looked 
at him, astonished, I began to feel the infection 
of his strano'e conduct. A thrill like soft music 
ran through me, and seemed to tingle in my ears 
and under my tongue ; and every movement I 
made brought a repetition of the inexpressible 
sound, for a sound it w^as, like a musical echo. 

''What is it?" I cried at length. ''This is 
wonderful ! " 

" It is a musical beach, — a singing beach ! '* he 
answ^ered. "And I should say it was the finest 
in the world ! " And then he said, for by strange 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 275 

chance he knew something about such a queer 
thing, " I believe there are only two or three 
' singmg beaches' known in the whole world; 
and this certainly must be the best." 

You may be sure we lingered over that mellif- 
luous swim. We pushed the boats ashore, and 
went in for the weird, sweet music of the stream. 
It was enouo'h to make one howl with sheer sen- 
suous enjoyment. As we pushed or scraped the 
pebbly bottom with our feet we felt or heard, I 
hardly know^ which, a rich resonance passing 
through us, clear and sweet as the soft note of 
distant cow-bells. The slightest displacement of 
the gravel brought it up, as if it had just escaped 
from the earth. 

When we had tried it a hundred and a thousand 
times, it occurred to us that neither could hear 
the note caused b} the other, — we only heard 
the sound of our own feet. A<>:ain the tenacious 
memory of my friend found an explanation. He 
remembered that divers can only talk under 
water by placing their heads on the bottom. 

Another discover}^ here : you can't get your 
head to the bottom of a four-foot stream, unless 
you catch hold of a stone on the bottom and pull 
yourself down. You can dive, and get your 
hands or feet or knees down ; l)ut not your chin. 
We are both good swimmers, and we tried in 



27(3 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

vain. While under water, on the dive, or crawl- 
ins: alono' the bottom on hands and knees, the 
river was a drear and silent sluice. At last we 
got our chins on the bottom, each on a stone, and 
we heard it, — oh ! we heard such melodious dis- 
cord, such a mixture of near and remote ^cho-like 
sweetness as can only l)e imagined in dreams. 
The river became as full of music as it was of 
water, and the inexpressi))le fusion of notes played 
throui]^h our senses like intoxication. Smith was 
twenty or thirty feet from me, and in deeper 
water; but eveiy sweep he gave the pel)bles 
sounded to me like a thousand cow-bells 
melted into liquid harmony. Xever, until we go 
to the same spot again, shall we hear such strange, 
suppressed, elfin music. 

Now, Athens, go down and l)athe at the place 
where we had this intoxicating bath ; and believe 
that never was there siren or naiad in the rivers 
or si)rini>;s of old Athens to ravish with sweeter 
melod}' than your own 1)eautiful Susquehanna 
holds for you. 

It would be better, perhaps, if I could follow 
the river features seriatim, as we saw them ; but 
then there are so many miles of every river that 
are only one uninteresting feature. No one cares 
for the names of little unheard-of villages, them- 
selves quite featureless. Some whole days we 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 277 

did nothing l)ut run insignificant rapids, until at 
last we came to despise them, so that we some- 
times i-an our canoes at them without searchino- 
for an opening, and for our pains always narrowly 
escaped upsetting, and always, too, had to get 
out and wade. The rapids of the Susquehanna 
teach as much patience and wariness as the loo's 
of the Connecticut. You can manage both, like 
little children, when you take the trouble of find- 
ing the right way ; otherwise they will crush your 
boat and you like the insensate brutes they are 
when opposed. 

About ten miles above Towanda we entered on 
a memoral)le experience. The river was wide, 
about half a mile, and we heard an unusually 
loud rapid about a quarter of a mile ahead. It 
was noon, and we landed on a pretty shaded bank 
on the right, to eat our dinner. The day was 
hot, and the shade was luxurious. We ^rave 
plenty of time to cooking and eatinir and swim- 
ming and smoking, and, like Brer Eabbit, " en- 
joyin' the day that passes." 

About two o'clock, a poor-looking fellow, in a 
poorer-looking old flat-bottomed boat, drifted 
past, going towards the rapid water. We asked 
him on which side the current ran. 

^' Don't know," he answered, sounding all his 
r's like a true native: "1 was neverr hearr be- 



278 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

foarr. I'm a strangerr ! " And, looking anxiously 
ahead, he drifted towards the breakers. We 
were then dining, and we watched him for our 
own instruction as we ate. AVe saw the swift 
stream take him, changing his course a little, and 
carry him into the rapid. He went down a few 
boat's lengths and struck. He jumped out, and 
saved the scow, hauling his boat back. Why he 
did not try to drag her down, instead of coming 
back was a mystery. At last we forgot him ; and 
an hour later we got afloat. The first thing we 
saw was the old boat, empty and aground, at the 
side of the rapid. The man Avas nowhere to be 
seen. What had become of him? He could 
hardly have been drowned in three or four feet 
of water, however rapid. And yet he had said 
he was a stranofer. 

We paddled to the other side of the river and 
shot down a rare piece of swift water without 
difliculty. We were in a hurry, for the sky behind 
us was ''black as thunder" with an enormous 
cloud, and already the air was filled with dead 
leaves from the mountain, carried out on the 
river by the first gusts. A few heavy drops of 
rain struck our fiices and arms, and made little 
towers on the river. 

The river was running with extreme rapidity, 
and the increasing wind, right behind us, ruflied 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 279 

it into white-caps in a few minutes, and drove 
us ahead at an exciting pace. We hardly knew 
what to do, beino^ i2:norant of the manner of 
storms in those parts ; but as the gale was in our 
fivor we simply steered straight, and held on. 
The stream ran ''palpably down hill," deep and 
swift. On our left was a grand mountain, almost 
precipitous, but wooded to the top, and black 
with the comino; irloom. The river almost ran 
under its brow. 

As w^e plunged ahead we heard the sound of 
rapid water above the roar of the gale ; we had 
no time to search for an opening ; but fortunately 
the water was deeper than usual. We kept to 
the left, as the river fell toward the mountain and 
dashed for the rapid. Two fishermen in a boat 
were running before us, about a hundred yards 
ahead. Suddenly we saw them lurch forward, 
w hile the boat swung round and the water leaped 
into her. They had kept tw^o yards too far to 
the left, but they had shown us the way. They 
w^ere in the water up to their w^aists, holding their 
boat, as w^e shot past them without a word. They 
looked at us with grim faces, quite silent, as if 
dumbfounded. We were fairlv lifted over the 
stones of that rapid by the wind and weaves ; and 
a few minutes later we knew what reason we had 
to be thankful, when the whole fury of the storm 
burst on us. 



280 ETHICS OF BOXING AND 3IAXLY SPORT. 

AYe had learned that an unbroken stretch of 
river lay before us, clear to Towanda, six miles 
away. We could see the spire of a church against 
the lurid sky far down the valley. The sky ahead 
was fast filling with heaps of dark clouds, racing 
faster than I have ever seen clouds move. Be- 
hind, from horizon to zenith, the air was like a 
slate colored cavern, with masses and feathery 
sheets of dark-brown vapor, tumbling and rush- 
ing low down, so low as to strike the mountain. 
There was no rain — nothing l)ut wind, and it 
was right astern, and held there by the towering 
mountain on our left. The waves combed out 
before us, higher than the boats. YVe could not 
have kept a quarter of a point off such a l)la.st. 
We felt the gale on our backs like a physical 
pressure. It was a magnificent race. AVe had 
not even to steei:. We sat still and were driven 
straight ahead, and, had there been a bend in the 
river, we should have had to run ashore. As 
quickly as the storm had risen, it subsided or 
passed. Far sooner than I would dare to write, 
we saw the tall bridge at Towanda half a mile 
ahead of us. We had run down five or six miles 
of river in as quick thiie, I think, as canoes could 
safely travel. 

Before Ave reached Towanda the storm had 
crossed the mountain and the sun was out. We 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 281 

kept to the left of the river, ran under the bridge, 
round an isUmd, and then dashed through a splen- 
did little rai)id, right in front of the city, and ran 
across to a l)oat-house. 

This reminds me of one of the greatest pleas- 
ures of canoeing on the Susquehanna — the 
courtesy and kindness one meets from every 
one, farmers, townsmen, rivermen, or railroaders. 
Only one class of men want to take advantage — 
the expressmen. They are the same everywhere 
— exorbitant, if not dishonest, in charge, and 
careless in work. It is not to the credit of the 
express s^^stem that a traveller must truly say so 
harsh a thing. 

At Owe2:o, or Ah- we irah, as we found its old 
Indian name to be^ we went to the hotel for 
dinner. We were roughly dressed, sunburnt, 
and hungry. The landlord, an old man with a 
singularly pleasant face, observed us as we ate. 
Then he went out, probably to see the canoes, 
which were down at the wharf before his house. 

''Having a good time, are you?" he said, as 
he returned. 

" Yes," we told him ; and we outlined our plan 
for him as we went on eatinsf his excellent dinner. 

" Forty years ago," said the old man, " 1 went 
down the Ohio River in a dug-out, just for fun, 
as you are doing. AVe had a splendid time ; but 



282 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

we got strapped, — do you know what that is? 
We spent all our money, and for days and days 
we hadn't a cent. But every one was kind to us, 
and we never w^anted for anything. We enjoyed 
it all ; and I hope you'll do the same." 

He shook hands with us w^armh\ When we 
w^ent to pay our bill, the clerk said, ''AH paid 
for, gentlemen. Glad you came to see us. Pleas- 
ant trip down the river ! " 

The kind old landlord was ''getting even" with 
the Ohioans, who had treated him Avell forty years 
ago. 

Another pleasant memory from Owego : when 
we w^ent down to the canoes we found that Smith's 
boat was leaking, probably strained on a stone. 
He went to bail her out with his tin cup. 

"You want a sponge," said a handsome big 
fellow, in shirt-sleeves, standing in the little 
crowd on the wharf. We hardly answered, the 
need being obvious. 

"You can't get a sponge between here and 
Harrisburg," he added. 

" That is not very consoling." 

" But I'm going to give you a big sponge," he 
continued. "Come with me and I'll fix you 
out." 

One of us w^ent with him ; he was the chief 
livery-stable-keeper in Owego ; his name was 



DOWN THR SUSQUEHANNA. 288 

Dean. He gave us a tremendous sponge, which 
was of very great service. 

'' Good-by, Mr. Dean; good-by, all of you," 
we said, as we swung out. 

A little dark-faced man had just come down 
the wharf. He was in a hurry. 

" Oh, I say ! " he shouted ; "1 bring you the 
compliments of the Owego Rapid, Wanted to 
interview you on the political situation ! " (I may 
say here that our voyage was made during a heated 
National campaign, of which more hereafter.) 
And we heard Dean and the crowd lauofhino; at the 
little man, who waved his note-book and pencil. 

It was the first we had heard of " the political 
situation" since leavini^ Bino;hamton. I mi^-ht 
have mentioned that when we launched our canoes 
near that city we were accompanied to the river 
bank by quite a number of well-wishers, and 
among them two gentlemen from the daily papers 
of Binghamton, w^ho industriously wrote down 
our ''views." As we paddled away from the 
wharf at Owesfo we conoratulated ourselves that 
Ave had broken the last link, and henceforth could 
go along like sensible men with no ''views" to 
air. But the "situation" had not done with us 
yet. 

Of our nio;hts on the banks of the river the 
details are too varied to be written. We enjoyed 



284 ETHICS OF boxing axd manly spokt. 

them intensely after the first three days, when 
the heat of the sunburn had abated. The onlv 
drawback was caused by our own persistent mis- 
take ; we did not pitch our camp early enough, 
and the darkness closed on us before we were 
quite ready for rest. VCg were tempted each day 
to go on paddling till the sun had reached the 
tops of the mountains ; and we had not realized 
how the mountains hurry on the sunset. 

The story of one night will do for all. AVe 
pulled our canoes ashore under a wooded bank, 
twenty feet high, and pitched our camp in a 
lovely little meadow above. It was six o'clock 
when we left the boats. The river was exceed- 
ingly beautiful from our meadow, reminding me 
of the Connecticut in its superb reaches below 
Northampton. Across the river, against the 
distant hills, rose the spire of a church ; but there 
was not a house in sialit. The nearest village 
was Tioga Centre, five miles away. The current 
in the river was almost still ; the water under our 
bank w^as about ten feet deep. Though we had 
much to do before we lost the sun, we could not 
help giving a few minutes to drink in the extreme 
beauty of the evening scene. 

Firewood was not to l)e had for the picking up, 
as usual ; but we found a dead tree, partly fallen, 
supported by its fellow^s fringing the river. We 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 285 

cut it down in quick time with our axe, chopped 
off some punky lengths of the trunk, tied one of 
our painters to the remainder, and ^'snaked" it 
out of the underbrush. The dry branches broke 
and burned like tinder, and the larger ones, with 
the trunk, made us a roarino; fire till mornino*. 
That night for supper we l)roiled some bacon and 
boiled some tinned beef, putting in a lot of 
Liebig's extract. Then coffee, eked out with our 
precious I)ut ill-fated butter and marmalade. 

Then — let us tell the truth, so that the price 
may be paid — we went to a stack of coarse hay 
in the meadow, and took two great armfuls, 
which we spread in our tent, and which was 
softer that niglit than down-of-eider. About the 
hour of this dark deed, the full moon rose over 
the hills and sailed into a sky black-blue, star- 
lit, and absolutely clear from mist or cloud. The 
only vapor to l)e seen was a slight smoke that 
clung m a thin, wavy line to the middle of the 
river. The only sound, except our own voices, 
was the screech of an owl on the hills and the 
leap of the bass in the water. 

The night was breathless; but we raised the 
bottom of the tent, and made a pleasant draft. 
Before ten o'clock we were asleep. How long 
that sleep lasted I cannot tell — perhaps three 
hours ; but it was ended in a most awful uproar. 



28G ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

In my sleep I had heard for hours, so it seemed, 
the thunder of rapids and falls greater than Ni- 
agara, into which the canoe was slipping against 
all my power to steer or stop her. Nearer and 
nearer the horror came ; there were people on the 
shore shoutino;, and one of them blew a whistle 
that would wake the dead, and I sprang up in the 
tent at the same moment that Smith jumped to 
his feet. AVithout moving farther we saw the 
cause of the disturbance. AVithin forty yards of 
us ran a railroad, along which was thundering one 
of these interminable coal trains, that are longer, 
I am sure, than any other trains in the world. 
The noise had affected us both in almost the same 
way ; and we were so completely awakened that 
to sleep again seemed out of the question. 

So we piled up our firewood till the flames illu- 
minated the sombre hills. Then we mixed with 
sugar and water a stiff dose of our remedy for the 
malaria ; but before enjoying this, the night was 
so warm and lightsome and the river so tempt- 
ing, I plunged into the deep water for a short 
swim. When I came in, Smith was sin«:ino: ; and 
we sat by the fire and sang on and on, and the 
screech owl stopped to listen ; and the fire and 
the tobacco burned as if they enjoyed it ; and it 
was well for the malaria that it did not come 
around that niaht. 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 287 

Say what you will there is no other form of 
outing that makes possible, within sight of con- 
ventional life and labor, such days and nights of 
utter freedoin, health, natural beauty, and manly 
enjoyment. 

But the river proceeds — as the canoes could 
not — below Towanda. There were immense 
stretches where the river widened, and the depth 
nowhere exceeded three or four inches. There 
was little pleasure in wading' and drasfSfins: our 
boats till the bottoms were worn out ; so we car- 
ried them up to the railroad (which hugs the 
river all the way), and shot the iron rapids till 
we came to fair water again. 

It was sometime in the forenoon when we ran 
into AVilkesbarre, passing through that lovely 
historic valley, 

"On Susquehanna's tide, fair Wyoming." 

Surely, in all the world, there is nothing to 
exceed the quiet, large beauty of this valley, that 
is enriched with so many forms of wealth ; with 
the stamp of sublimity from the hand of God ; 
with the deep coloring of pathetic and patriotic 
association, and with the priceless mineral treas- 
ures that lie deep in field and hill. 

" This is the richest valley on the face of the 
planet," said a Wilkesbarre man to us ; and he 



288 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AXD MANLY SPORT. 

was only thinking of the coal-veins hidden in its 
bosom. 

But let there be a few uncivilized ones, at least, 
who shall regard the shafts and chimneys and 
hideous coal-heaps as marks of desecration and 
disease. AVealth and civilization, vou sav ; ave, 
wealth and civilization for the owners of the 
mines, for tlie lordly '' coal operators," whose 
summer palaces are set on the shoulders of the 
noble hills. But for the thousands of workers in 
the bowels of the earth ; for those whose minds 
and souls, as well as bodies, are darkened with 
the coal-2:rim : for their wives and little children, 
existing that a race of sul)ject-worlvers may be 
perpetuated, what portion of our wealth and 
civilization belongs to these? Does civilization 
necessarily mean the degradation and starvation 
intellectually and spiritually of ten, for the lux- 
ury and over-development of one ? 

Civilization impinges on humanitv in Pennsyl- 
vania perhaps not more unfairly or cruelly than 
elsewhere ; but the contra.^ts are shockins^lv 
apparient. 

But we came to look at the hills and the river, 
not at the social relativities. And the hills are 
as sadly marked as the human moles who burrow 
into them. There is no desecration of a mountain 
so bliMitino; as the sinkino- of a mine into its 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANXA. 281) 

heart. The dark mouth of the shaft, high up on 
the side of the hill, is repulsive as a cancer to the 
eye searching for beauty. Storms might shatter 
the forests, or fire sweep them, and the grandeur 
of the hills would be untouched. But in the 
midst of billowed foliage, and within sound of 
the rills, the puft' of a steam-engine beside a black 
hole in the mountain-side robs the scene of all 
loveliness, and hurries the observer out of sisfht 
of the profanation. 

But where was I ? At Wilkesbarre only ! "We 
put our boats up at a pretty boat-house above the 
bridge, and we thought we should stay an hour 
to see the city, and then proceed. It is very 
pleasant to recall the manner and face of the man 
who kept that boat-house, and who was, we learned 
later, no other than " Commodore Brobst, of the 
Wilkesbarre Xavy," a well-known and popular 
person. He was very kind indeed ; but while he 
was showing us his handsome boats, his little 
boy was scudding off to a newspaper office, and 
''The Commodore" seemed to enjoy himself 
hugely when, a few minutes later, a reporter 
stepped down to the float and said : — 

" Gentlemen, we have been expecting you. 
The editor of my paper is coming here presently 
to welcome you ; and also a committee of recep- 
tion, which was appointed three days ago." 



290 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Upon hearing this amazing announcement we 
sat down upon the float to gaze at the reporter. 
Within ten minutes his astoundino; words were 
made true. 

" Grentlemen you will speak here to-night in 
the court-house, on the political situation. You 
will have an immense audience ! " 

This was the first word that impressed itself on 
my mind. We could not laugh, and we could 
not boorishly get into our Ijoats and paddle away ; 
so we weakly listened to the voice of the seducers, 
who would draw us from our beautiful rapids and 
woods and hills into the narrowins; wrano^le of 
worldly ways. But the editor was such a clever 
and earnest fellow, and the chairman of the com- 
mittee was so genial and hospitable, that, after 
hours of entertainment and enjoyment, we compro- 
mised : we promised to return two days later 
and make political speeches in Wilkesbarre ! It 
was then noon of ]\Ionday ; we would go on our 
way down the stream, and come back for Wednes- 
day night. 

From that moment we knew that a beauty had 
departed from the river. It seemed to sink and 
become commonplace. Some charm of fidelity 
or sympathy was broken. We were disloyal to 
the Susquehanna ; we could not, as yesterday, 
look the beautiful river in the face. 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 291 

But we went along, and, in keeping with our 
new prosaic feeling, we hooked on to a little 
steamer running down to Nanticoke, and escaped 
nine miles of paddling. At Nanticoke we could 
not cross the dam, — so we went into the canal 
which begins there. Deeper and deeper we were 
sinking into the prosaic ; and the sense of a 
departed sympathy made us silent and almost 
irritable. I heard Smith repeating to himself the 
sad lines of Wordsworth : — 

" The moon doth with delight 
Look round her when the heavens are bare ; 
Waters on a starry night 
Are beautiful and fair; 
The sunshine is a glorious birth; 
But yet I know, where'er I go, 
That there hath passed away a glory from the earth." 

We regretted the promise that bound us to 
return, and necessitated at least ^ome preparation. 
We resolved to telegraph back recalling it. But 
there was no telegraph-office for a long distance 
down the canal. The current was slow, but in 
our favor. We paddled steadily ahead, almost 
silent, till the sun bent down to the mountains, 
and the canal seemed to become a mere gloomy 
ditch. Then we began to think of camping 
and getting supper ; but for miles no suitable 
place appeared. Just about sunset we overtook 



292 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MAXLY SPORT. 

II canal-boat, and asked the man at the \yheel 
where he was going to stop for the night. 

" We don't stop ; we go on all night," he said ; 
" and if you fellows want to come on board, 
you can lift your boats on deck, and you're very 
welcome." 

We thanked him; read 'M^es" in each other's 
eyes ; and in five minutes the canoes were on 
l)oard, and we were having a new and pleasant 
sensation. 

The canal-boat is no greyhound : it moves 
solemnly and firmly at the rate of two miles an 
hour ; l^ut it pushes ahead day and night, and, 
like the tortoise of the fable, it might win a race 
against a heedless hare. The Susquehanna Canal 
Company's service employs about two thousand 
men and boys, and heaven knows how many 
mules. And splendid mules they are, big as 
horses almost, and comely to the eye. They 
impressed my companion so much that in his 
speech at AVilkesbarre, two daj^s later, he made 
the audience gasp by opening with the emphatic 
assertion that the Democratic party was like a 
mule? ''Because," said he, ''it is patient, 
intelligent, good-humored, hard-working, — and 
handsome I " The Jefiersonians breathed a sigh 
of relief, and then enjoyed the simile. 

Tom Elder was the captain's name, and he had 



DOAVX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 293 

on board a man to cook and steer and clean — a 
silent man who answered questions, but never 
once looked at us ; also a youth of nineteen, a 
carpenter from Tom's town down the river, who 
had run away from home, and was now returning- 
through his townsman's kindness ; and, lastly, a 
little tough, red-headed fellow of fifteen, the 
mule-driver, — another Tom, — who had a phenom- 
enal voice deep down in his chest, from roaring 
at the mules, and who swore more profoundl}^ 
and unconsciously than any one I had known up 
to that time. In this respect, however, little 
Tom, we found, was distanced by competitors on 
the tow path. 

Once on ])oard no one spoke to us or noticed 
us. Their indifierence w^as Indian-like. About 
an hour after boarding the boat Captain Tom 
came up from the cabin kitchen-bedroom of the 
ship's company, and, without looking at us, said : 

''If you fellows want some bean soup there's 
plenty of it down there, and you're very wel- 
come." 

''Much obliged, captain," said Smith; "and 
perhaps you would'nt mind taking a little of this 
— for the malaria. And a ci^rar." 

The captain came down w^ithout waiting to be 
shot. 

We had plenty of provisions with us, and we 



294 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

made a memorable supper. The rmiaway car- 
penter " washed up" after us. Then we " made 
our beds " on the deck, between the canoes, drew 
our blankets over us, and looked up at the stars, 
which seemed, from the motion of the boat and 
our position, to be moving in a grand, slow pro- 
cession. It was a beautiful night, and our enjoy- 
ment was 2:reat. The trees reached over the 
canal nearly all the way. On one side, below us 
some fifty yards, was the river, with a black 
mountain on the other side. Above us, about 
the same distance, was the railroad, cut out of 
the mountain foot ; and sheer above that the 
" eternal hills," lifting to the stars. 

There was no sound but the swish of the o^reat 
boat and the distant quick hoofing of the mules. 
About midnio:ht we heard a stranae, hard roar, 
rising and falling in a certain cadence. It was 
only little Tom, who had just waked from his 
first nap on the mule's back, and was cheering 
them with a sons:. The children who drive the 
mules for this great corporation soon learn to 
sleep on the animals' backs. 

In the morning, before breakfast, we saw a fair 
place for lowering our boats to the river ; and we 
shook hands with Captain Tom Elder, and the 
serious cook, and the runaway carpenter, and 
little Calliope-Tom. We had, it appeared, won 



DOWX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 295 

their hearts ; and for one brief second I causfht 
the retiring eye of the cook as we parted. 

Returning to the river rejoiced us ; it was like 
coming back to an old friend, — a renewal of 
fealty. And it was w^ell for us that we had some 
compunction to work off', for a viler ten miles 
than that before us I have never seen, — not even 
excepting the upper end of the Charles River. 

First of all, the water was like milk-and-w^ater 
in color, and it was limy to the taste. There w^as 
a new sort of rock in the bottom, long ledges of 
slate that crossed the river like bars, upon every 
one of which we stuck. We never dreamt of 
dressing : jerseys and shoes were enough. We 
w^ere w^adinof half the time. At last we came to 
an island, and we parted company, Smith going 
to the riofht, and I to the left, close under the 
mountain. The river was more than half a mile 
wide ; and the island turned out to be many miles 
long. It was a dismal experience, going alone, 
and each wonderino^ how the other was o:ettin«: 
on. For five miles I had not an unbroken run of 
fifty yards. The side of the hill had evidently 
fallen into the river, and crumbled into pieces 
from the size of a foot-ball to the size of a cab. 
The sluice-ways between some of these were 
fierce and swift, but irritatingly short. 

When I was about half-way down I began to 



29() ETHICS OF BOXING AND INIANLY SPORT. 

fear that Smith might be worse off; so I hauled 
toward the island and went ashore. Nowhere 
could I see him, nor get an answer to a bush 
" coo-ee ! " So I walked back to the end of the 
island, only to find that he had had open river 
all the way down, and nmst, therefore, be miles 
ahead. An hour later I found him at the end of 
the island, on a mos;jy l):rik, under tall beeches, 
— a little bit from fairyland. 

As we were about to a'et into our canoes, after 
several hours' rest here, we saw a stranae siaht. 
In the reflection under the boats oreat numbers 
of little fish had gathered, and ranged themselves 
in a line, evidently enjoying the only scrap of 
shadow on the wide river. As Ave ran down a 
grand reach of deep and swift water, below the 
village, we saw another strange thing — a tre- 
mendous iron pipe crossing the river in a lonely 
place, like a huge serpent half-buried in the mud, 
under eight feet of clear water. It was probably 
the pipe of one of the great oil lines. Ten miles 
farther down we came to another villa2:e ; and as 
we shot a little rapid in its front a man ran down 
to the river waving a letter. It was addressed to 
me, ''On the Susquehanna River in a Canoe." It 
was from the political committee at Wilkesbarre, 
which we had almost forgotten, telling us that 
we should have " an immense audience next 



DOAVN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 297 

evening," and asking, ''On what train may we 
expect you ? " 

About a score of little boys, the oldest not 
more than twelve, who had been swinnning, 
gathered round as we read the letter, and sat in 
the water like fowl, eying us silently. When we 
started off they rose in a bevy, and plunged after 
us, swimming splendidly, one blue-eyed little 
fellow following my boat with extraordinary 
rapidity, using the overhand stroke like an expert. 

It was then four o'clock, and we were about 
twelve miles from Danville. We paddled along 
dejectedly, knowing that our trip had lost its 
charm by this political interruption. But it was 
too late to regret. We were delayed soon by 
shallows and insignihcant rapids, and before we 
had gone four miles the sun had sunk behind the 
hills. 

To cheer us up we floated at last into deep 
water, and saw before us a scene of surpassing 
loveliness and repose. The narrow valley on the 
left was a marvellous picture of rural taste and 
comfort. A farm-house smothered in soft foliaoe, 
with roses trained over the porch, and in the 
garden the largest and most beautiful weeping- 
willow either of us had ever seen. A mile farther 
down we passed a fisherman, and he told us there 
were two strong rapids, some miles below, which 



298 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

could not be safely run in the dark. So we 
carried our boats up to the tow-path, intending 
to paddle into Danville that night on the canal. 

But when we had eaten our supper we resolved 
to stay where we were. It was a lonely and 
lovely place. A high wooden bridge on stone 
piers crossed the canal and railroad, and led up 
into a road that was cut into the steep hillside. 

We sat on the high bridge and enjoyed the 
moonrise over the gloomy hill ; but, though we 
did our best to forget it, the coming speech-mak- 
ing disturbed us like the distant roar of rapid 
water that we knew had to be considered and 
crossed. 

''I wish Tom Elder would come alono- " su^-- 
gested Smith. '^ We could go into Danville on 
his canal boat." 

But Tom was miles astern ; and we went and 
raided on a wood-pile near the bridge, though no 
house could be seen, and flung a dozen big sticks 
down to the tow-path beside the boats. Just 
then we heard a buggy, or light wagon, passing 
on the road ; and Smith ran up on the bridge and 
hailed it, meaning to ask some questions. 

^'Ho! I say! I say, sir!" he shouted, as he 
sprang out in the moonlight. The driver of the 
wagon started up his horse, evidently alarmed. 
We heard the swish ! swish ! of the whip, quicker 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA. 299 

and harder as Smith ran and shouted, and soon 
the fri2:htened teamster was out of dan2:er. 

We learned next day that the phice at which 
we stopped had been the scene of numerous rob- 
beries, and tliat people dislilved it even in the 
daytime. It was well for us that the scared 
driver had no o'un with him. 

We lit our fire and made our beds beside it, 
just withdrawn from the tow-path, and were soon 
sleeping soundly. Once, about midnight, we 
were awakened by a passing canal-boat ; but we 
slept again, with a kindly " Good-night, fellows," 
from the sleepy child on the back of the hind mule. 

The dawn was just creeping over the hill when 
another sound disturbed us, — a loud, hard, ca- 
denced roar, Avhich was familiar. It was little, 
red-headed, Calliope-Tom, singing his matins to 
the mules. In ten minutes we had all our goods 
in the boats, and we started up the tow-path to 
meet our friends. Little Calliope-Tom saw us 
afar off, and welcomed us with a long shout and a 
loud. Captain Tom Elder greeted us cordially ; 
the serious cook and the runaway carpenter came 
up and gave a hand with our embarkation ; and in 
a few minutes more we were sound asleep in our 
blankets on the friendly deck. 

At Danville, in the morning, we went to the 
hotel, Captain Tom escorting us. We left our 



300 ETHICS GF BOXING AND 3IANLY 8PORT. 

boats at the landing. After breakfast and a morn- 
ing paper (the first for days) we resolved to 
2:0 to AVilkesbarre at noon, and " think over our 
speeches " by the way. 

No need to tell of our reception, our audience, 
our eloquence. We had a famous day, and a 
night to be remembered, at the hospitable house 
of a Pennsylvania gentleman of the old school, 
who gave us much that the palates of wandering 
men hanker after. 

But the next day dawned, and we were far 
from our canoes. We breakfasted with an etibrt at 
cheerfulness. When the boy brought to us, at the 
table, the morning paper, with a report of our 
speeches, we brightened at once. But, lo ! it was 
the Kepublican paper, the Democratic sheet hav- 
ing only an evening issue. And therein we read, 
with ghastly merriment, words of scorn for our 
eloquence and pity for our arguments. 

"Wait till evening, till you see the Leader/'' 
said a friendly caller. "I tell you the Leader 
will do you justice." 

But no; we said " Good-by," and started for 
Danville. On our way we concluded to go no 
farther in the canoes, but to run on to Harris- 
l)urg, taking them up as we passed Dan- 
ville. That was the end of our voyage on the 
river, though we followed it lovingly from the 



DOWN THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 301 

window of the train all the way to Harrisburg. 
AVe saw the marriage of the lovely eTuniata Avith 
the Susquehanna, recalling the exquisite poem of 
my friend, John Brown : — 

" Oh! never such a sight: 
He sweeping round the vahey's bend, 
While she, on maiden tip-toe rising, 
Feasts loving glances on the friend 
She has so lonesome been abiding ; 
He, helpless, seeks the fatal shore. 
Charm-blinded by her eygs, dark-flashing 
Within the portals of the door 
Through which her slender form is passing: 
He opens wide his giant arms, 
The yomig and lordly Susquehanna ; 
She nestles there her virgin charms, 
The soft-voiced, lovely Juniata ; 

There in the bright sunlight! " 

And so, good-by for another season to the 
sweet waters, the dancing boat, and the biceps- 
building paddle. There is no sport or exercise so 
complete as canoeing a river, for it embraces all 
spoits, — the excitement of rapid water, the deli- 
cious plunge, the long swim down stream, the 
fishing and shooting, the free camping out at 
night, and the endless beauty of the panoramic 
scene. Canoe-clubs may meet and vote and com- 
pete and sail regatta races on the lakes. But the 
true canoeist knows not sail nor prize, but searches 
with the paddle all the bends and rapids and shad- 
owed reaches of our peerless American rivers. 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER IN A 

CANOE. 



" You can run everything on the river but the 
Big Foul," said the teamster at Port Jervis, as 
he helped us launch the canoes from a gravel 
bank. 

' ' Where is the Big Foul ? " 

''Below Belvidere : you'll strike it in a few 
days. Xo boat can run that rift at this stage of 
the water.*' 

" Oh, it's a rift," said Moseley, standing knee- 
deep in the river, and packing his canoe. ''I 
thought it was a bird. Why is it called the Big 
Fowf? " 

'' It is the foulest rapid on the Delaware," an- 
swered the teamster. ''I know the river to 
Trenton : went down last May on a fresh. You 
can run all the rest ; but you'll have to carry 
round the Big Foul Eift." 

We had before heard about this rapid with 

(808) 



304 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

the ominous name. A discussion in Forest and 
Stream, a few years ago, directed the attention 
of canoemen to its alleged dangers and extreme 
rapidity of current.* 

I had with me also the notes of one of the best 
canoemen in the country, who had run the Dela- 
ware in the spring of last year, to which I re^ 
ferred, and found these words : — 

''Great Foul Rift, short distance below Belvidere. Ran 
do\^Ti on rafting fresli in May. Length almost a mile and a 
half from head of Little Foul to foot of Great Foul. Rapidity 
of water and danger much exaggerated." 

''That's all right for a spring fresh," said the 
teamster, who had heard this note read. ''But 

* Two canoemen of East Orange, X. .J., who ran the rapids 
in 1878, and who claimed to be the first to do it, wrote as fol- 
lows: "After passing through two or three smaU rifts, we 
arrived at Great Foul Rift, which is considered the most dan- 
gerous one in the river, on account of the number of rocks and 
the swiftness of the current. How to describe our passage 
through here, we hardly know; all we can say is, we saw it, 
we entered it, and we passed it. You can see the big slate 
rocks on all sides of you. and are unable to tell what minuta 
you will strike them. This rift is two miles long, and we 
passed through it in three minutes exactly, being carried that 
fast by the current, without using our paddles." This state- 
ment was received with astonishment. Two miles in three 
minutes, or forty miles an hour, is not the speed of a rapid, but 
almost that of a waterfall. 

Among the critics was Mr. A. H. Siegfried of Louisville, who 
had also run the Great Foul Rift. He wrote: "We were 
warned against Foul Rift for two days above it, and came to it 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVEK. 305 

the river is ten feet lower now ; and it's the 
bottom of a river that's dangerous, not the top." 

Guiteras was the first in his canoe. ''Here 
goes for Philadelphia ! " he cried, as he pushed off. 
''Are there any rapids near us, down the river?" 

" Listen ! " and the teamster smiled. 

We listened and heard one, the sound coming 
from the bend of the river half a mile below. 

" It's only a little one," shouted the teamster, 
as we started. " Keep well to the left, and you'll 
find a channel. It is a smooth rift." 

We were three, in three canoes,— Mr. Edward 
A. Moseley in a stoat boat built by Partelow, of 
the Charles Eiver ; Dr. Ramon Guiteras, in a 

determined not merely to run it, but to examine it carefully, 
and see if it is as dangerous as the natives tliink. We went 
through it without paddle, save for steering purposes, but 
losing no time from speed of actual current, and were just 
eleven minutes from the time we entered until we left the swift 
water. That vre thought a quick run, considering the windings 
of the channel, following which the distance is fully three miles, 
though a straight line will measure nearly one-third less. The 
rift is very swift and crooked, whirling among many and such 
recklessly distributed boulders that the speed claimed by ' F. P. 
and E. P. D.' would have been sure death to both boats and 
men if it had been possible." 

The official measurements of the Little and Great Foul Rifts 
are: Little Foul Rift, 768 ft.; Great Foul Rift, 4,620ft.; dis- 
tance from head of Little Rift to foot of Great Rift, 1^ mile. 
These measurements are probably by the straight line, and not 
according to the windings of the channel. 



306 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY 8POUT. 

stroiiof Racine ; while mine was a keelless, decked 
canoe, by the best builder in tlie world, Rushton, 
of Canton, N. Y. 

It was two in the afternoon of a glorious day 
when w^e started from Port Jervis. After a long, 
dusty railroad ride, it is impossible to convey the 
exhilarating sense of freedom and enjoyment 
wdiich one feels during the first moments in his 
canoe. To plunge the bare arms to the elbow 
into the river as you go, and let the cool water 
curl up to the biceps ; to feel the soft breeze on 
bare head and neck ; to be far from the busy 
crowds in the cities, with all the senses awake to 
new and fascinating objects — the swirl of rapid 
w^ater, the brown and yellow stones on the bot- 
tom of the river, the large, free movements of 
clouds, the strange flowers on the bank ; to grip 
the paddle with an agreeable sense of power in 
shoulder and hand ; to brace the feet strongly 
against the foot-rest and feel the canoe spring 
with the elastic force of the stroke ; to shout un- 
restrainedly to your companions, and hear them 
shout in return like hearty, natural men ; to 
laugh consumedly with slight cause ; and in the 
midst of all this joyous wakefulness, to be aware 
of the nearing rapid ahead — to hear its low, 
steady roar, as if the sound clung to the water ; 
and to be aware also of a new preparation of 



J^OWX THE DELAWARE KIVEU. 3U7 

nerve, sight, and muscle — a purely animal and 
instinctive alertness — for the moment of rushing 
excitement into which you are swee})ing, — all 
this we experienced w^ithin ten minutes of leav- 
ino; the caravel bed at Port Jervis, and while the 
teamster still shouted to us from the shore. 

We w^ere silent at first, and surprised. It took 
us some moments to realize that the surprise was 
delight. The river was not deep — three or four 
feet at most ; but it ran down hill like a hunted 
hare. There w^as something quite new in it, too, 
w^hicli I concluded to be the long, w^avy green 
weeds near the bottom, that floated straight w^ith 
the current like a yacht's pennant in a gale, and 
by their swaying and glistening in the depths in- 
dicated the course and the extraordinary rapidity 
of the water. 

^' This is superb!" said one. The others 
echoed the word. 

Almost before we knew, we w^ere in the rush of 
the first rapid. We had not carefully followed 
the teamster's instructions to keep to the extreme 
left ; and we had passed the narrow mouth of the 
channel. Before us ran an oblique bar of heavy 
stones, over which the river poured like a curtain. 
It ran clear across the river, and we found our- 
selves far into the closed ano-le. The water on 
the curtain to the left roared like a heavy surf, 



308 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

and we knew that we could not o-et over or 
through. There was no opening between the 
stones more than two feet wide, and beyond or 
below w^as a hundred yards of chaotic rock and 
roar. 

We turned and paddled up stream — I might 
have said up hill. Inch by inch we gained, work- 
ing with feverish speed, the paddle slipping back 
in the o'lancino- stream as if it were in air, holdino- 
hardly any force. 

But we climbed the first descent, and steered 
across to where the channel hugged the right 
bank. Guiteras went in first ; he had not oone 
up far enough by a boat's length, and as he shot 
across into the narrow channel, his canoe lurched 
upon one side, stood a moment and swung athwart 
sU'eain. He had struck ; l)ut before a thought of 
danger could follow, the paddle was buried, and 
with a lifting push, his boat slipped over the stone 
and rushed down the rapid like a leaf. 

The other canoes followed, avoiding the buried 
stone. It was a vigorous little rush — about two 
hundred yards in length, and not fifteen feet in 
width. The water was deep, l)ut its speed made 
it rise in a leap over every stone on the bottom, 
and hurl itself in all kinds of rido-es and furrows 
and springing white-caps. 

At the bottom of the rift we plunged into a 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 309 

heap of boiling breakers, still running like mad. 
Next moment we floated into smooth water, and 
turned and looked back at our first rapid with 
much lauo'hin^: and con^rratulation. 

The rapid, or rift (on the Upper Delaware all 
rapids are r!fts; on the Lower Delaware all rifts 
are/«//8; the change beginning, I think, about 
Easton, as, for instance. Saw-mill Rift, Death's 
Eddy Eift, Big Foul Rift; and below, Welles's 
Falls, Trenton Falls, etc.) — the rapid w^e had 
passed, on looking back, seemed insignificant in 
descent and rouo-hness ; but we were fairly aston- 
ished at the speed of the water, and I think we 
had a vague consciousness that it would have been 
no child's play to steer through that channel had 
it been of any considerable length, and broken Iw 
rocks. The teamster had called it ''a little one," 
and -^a smooth rift;" what, then, were the bio- 
ones ? There w^as no mention at all of this rift in 
the notes of the canoeman which I hud with 
me. What was the ominous Great Foul Rift in 
comparison ? 

As we gazed back at the rapid, it receded from 
us swiftlv. We were on the quiet surface of 
deep water, but going down at the rate of several 
miles an hour. 

The current still kept to the left bank, and an 
odd bank it was, — worth describing, because 



310 ETHICS OF BOXING AMD MANLY SPORT. 

it continued intermittently quite down to Trenton, 
where the last rapid on the Delaware pitches the 
canoeman into tidal water. The bank resembled 
molten metal that had hardened. It was ahiiost 
black, a clean, smooth stone, with round puff- 
holes in it, no vegetation whatever on the 
steep slope of, say, twenty feet from the water's 
edge, above which rose a wooded hill, almost a 
mountain. The metallic bank ended alnniptly in 
the stream, and the deep current alongside ran 
with astonishing swiftness. 

I realized in brief time that up to that day I 
had not known rapid water, continued in a long 
stream. The Susquehanna rapids are short and 
sharp descents, followed by slow and gentle 
reaches, some of which are miles in length. The 
Connecticut, in a memory of six years' distance, 
spreads out like a lake, with here and there a log 
moving alongshore, showing that there actually is 
a current. The Merrimack was remembered as 
a very millpond, except on the short descent of 
Miller's Falls, near Haverhill, and in the power- 
ful tidal rush under Deer Island Chain-bridge at 
Xewburyport; while many lesser streams were 
quite forgotten in presence of this grand artery 
which carried us onward almost as fast as we 
could paddle on slower rivers. 

I have given too much space to our first rapid 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVEK. 311 

on the Delaware, which, we soon found, was 
only one of scores before us, and a small one — 
even a ''smooth one." But it will save other 
descriptions ; and it gives our first impression of 
the river. Havinir run the Delaware from Port 
Jervis to Philadelphia, Ave found that this first 
rapid was singularly characteristic. All the 
considerable rapids are of a somewhat similar 
formation, — except the Great Foul Rift, which 
is unique. 

The rapids of the Delaware are formed in the 
main by an oblique line of rocks crossing the 
river, Icavino: a narrow channel on one side, or 
sometimes the opening is almost one-third of the 
way across, with reefs on both sides. 

With deep water, say in May or June, when 
the river is from eight to ten feet higher than it 
was in the last week of August, a canoeman may 
run two hundred miles of this incomparable river 
without striking a stone. But every foot of fall 
in the stream makes a totallv new river ; and he 
who goes down on a freshet in early summer 
cannot imagine what the river is like at low 
water in late autumn. 

The Delaware is a river of extraordinary pitch, 
the fall from Port Jervis to Philadelphia being 
nearly 1,200 feet. 

On that first afternoon we intended to run down 



312 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AXD MAXLY SPORT. 

to Milford, twelve miles distant, where, we had 
been told, there w^as a famous hotel. But we 
lingered on the way. In the sweltering heat we 
pulled the canoes ashore and plunged into the 
delicious water, drinkinir it as we swam — a sensa- 
tion for epicures. AVe la}' prone in the rapid 
stream, our arms outspread, and our faces under 
water, floating quickly down, and looking at the 
yellow and white pebbles on the bottom. 

At last w^e came to a lovely spot, a soft white 
sand-bank on the left, the Jersey side, formed by 
the junction of a bright little river with the Dela- 
ware. Every paddle was laid down. Half a mile 
below we heard the dull roar of a rapid. Here 
the river was very deep and swift, and not more 
than eighty 3'ards wide. On the right, a wooded 
but precipitous mountain rose ahnost straight 
from the water to a heiu'ht of at least 800 feet. 
From his eyrie far up we had disturbed a white- 
headed eagle which floated and tipped its great 
winofs above us as it moved slowlv down river. 

The sand-bank was in the angle where the little 
river fell over a short rapid of twenty yards into 
the Delaware. The bank was hemmed in bv a 
dense wood. 

"We camped on the sand-l)ank for the night. 
One man erected the tent ; another cooked dinner ; 
the third went in search of a farmhouse for milk, 



DOAVN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 313 

eggs, melons and peaches — the staple of our food 
for the next fortnight. 

While the dinner simmered we had a trial of 
strength with the Delaware itself, breast to breast. 
Swiftly we struck across and down the river for 
a hundred yards, and then turned and faced the 
stream. Three strong swimmers, — two of the 
three extraordinary. Moseley, with the over-hand 
stroke, which sends him about eiixht feet a stroke 
in still water, made progress at the rate of about 
one foot a stroke. Guiteras barely held his own, 
swimmins: as if he were anchored; and, watchino- 
the bank, I saw that I was actually going down 
stream. Under such circumstances you can do a 
great deal of swimming in a quarter of an hour. 

The sun went down on the left, al)ove the low 
trees, without cloud or haze. For a lono- time 
after its disappearance the upward rays flamed 
on the face of the great clift' across the river, the 
red o'leam movins; hia'her and higher, and the 
darkness creeping up the wooded wall like a vast 
tide. When the line of light had cleared the brow 
of the cliff* the trees above, diminished to a fino-er- 
leno:th, blazed in o'old and crimson : and then, 
almost suddenly, the li<rht left them, — rose over 
them, and was lost in space, and they, too, were 
swallowed up in the night. 

" The lio'ht that shoots over the heads of trees 



314 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

or pe()})le,*' said Moseley, 'Miiiglit as well not 
exist.'' 

With which philosophic reflection, we spread 
our rubber blankets on the sand of the tent, over 
these our woollen blankets ; and then, with a big 
fire blazing a few feet from the tent's mouth, we 
lav or sat for our cofiee and ci^'ars. 

Throughout our trip this quiet smoking hour, 
each evenino: with a stranire scene before us, was 
a most enjoyable part of the day. 

We slept as if the night were an hour long, 
and we woke to plunge into the sweet unchilled 
water. We started without breakfast, hoping to 
reach ^Milford and the " famous cook" at an early 
hour. 

The miles were long, and the river unendingly 
broken. It was down hill all the time, rift suc- 
ceeding rift. Do what we could with careful 
steerino', we struck aizain and airain, and we were 
in constant danger of smashing boats or paddles. 
So common became the striking that we coined a 
word for it — 'Miung up." And we could not 
help laughing, when one struck, as we swept past 
and saw him grimly poling his canoe over a rock, 
or raisino- his feet over the aunwale, as he orot 
out to haul her over. For this we had to be 
always ready ; trousers tucked up, and canvas 
shoes on. 



DOWN THE DELAWARE KIVER. 315 

It came to •be a jesting habit, that when one 
led into a rapid he would do so ^vith a boastful 
shout. This was my part, at one time on this 
second day. I had gone into a rift with much 
flourish, and, a third of the way through, had 
been ''hung up." Down rushed the others with 
loud derision, avoiding' the bad ])lace. Imao-ine 
mv feelinir of disa'ust at their selfishness, as I saw 
their backs, leavino- me there. Xext moment, in 
the worst part of the rapid, I saw one of them 
strike and hold his boat with his paddle against a 
rock ; and a second or two later the other struck 
just beside him. Who could help smiling? And 
that moment, by a fortunate lurch, my canoe 
floated and rushed down toward the two, who 
were now struggling knee-deep in the stream. 
They held on to let me pass, and scowled as if 
my laugh were in bad taste. 

At ten o'clock we reached Milford, Penn., and 
climbed the hundred feet of steep bank on which 
the little town stands. Over the town, all round, 
rose still many hundred feet of grandly-wooded 
mountains. The hotel, they told us, was over 
twelve hundred feet above sea level. The hotel 
^ve found to l)e even better than its report. 

Ever since starting at Port eTervis, Mosele}^ 
had kept referring to the beauty of the scenery at 
Walpack Bend, some fifteen or twenty miles be- 



316 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SrORT. 

low Milford. He had a camera with hnn, and 
his desire to get out and take a view grew on him 
like a disease. Xo impatience, or protest, or 
prayer affected him. " When we get home," he 
would unselfishly say, ''these pictures will be 
the best part of the trip," — and he was right. 

The banks on l)oth sides now rose into moun- 
tains, w^ooded to the top. The river was a series 
of deep and swift reaches, and then a leaping 
rift, with a steep descent. 

In the very centre of one of these rapids, an un- 
usually deep one, my canoe struck on a covered 
rock and I knew in a flash that she must either o-et 
instantlv over or be rolled down stream. Thouo^ht 
and act united. I lifted her by a vigorous push, 
and was whirled down, stern foremost, with my 
paddle broken. 

Fortunately, the channel below was deep, 
though rough and very rapid. To meet the emer- 
gency I knelt up, instead of sitting as heretofore, 
and used the broken end of the paddle as a pole, 
fending ofl* rocks, and steering occasionally with 
the blade end. 

Before I had cleared the rapid I knew that my 
loss was a a'ain. The best wav to steer a canoe 
down a rapid is to kneel and use a long paddle 
until one Uade^ the other end to he used as apole. 

I had a spare paddle in the canoe, a delicate spoon 



DOWN THE DELAWARE KIYER. 317 

paddle, only fit for deep water. As soon as the 
rift was past, I jointed this and used it ; l)ut when 
the next rift was heard, kiid it aside and took up 
the broken paddle. 

The memory of tliat day is wholly confused 
with the noise of rapid water. We were no 
sooner through one rift than we heard another. 
The names of the rapids were quaint and sugges- 
tive : such as Death's Eddy, Fiddler's Elbow, 
Milliner's Shoe, Sambo and Mary, Vancamp's 
Nose, and Shoemaker's Eddy. 

One must use colors, not words, to paint the 
beauty of the scene that opened before us on our 
third day, when we ran the upper rapid at Wal- 
pack Bend, and floated into a reach of river that 
can hardly be surpassed in the world. On our 
right and left the banks were low and richly 
timbered; and straioht ahead, barring' our way, 
about half a mile oft', a high mountain, wooded 
from the water to the crest. 

The river runs straio-ht to the mountain-foot, 
and there turns directly to the left. It is not a 
curve or a sweep, but distinctly a right angle ; 
and then, for one mile with the hill to the right 
and the low farms on the left, and for two miles 
with the mountain to the left and the farms to 
the right, the grand stream paces slowly, like a 
proud horse in the eye of a multitude. 



318 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Here we had a striking illustration of the 
power of color. The wooded height before us 
rose at least twelve hundred feet. The river l)e- 
low was o'reen with the immense reflection. But 
on the very line of union, where the leaves met 
and kissed in air and water, was a little flame of 
crimson, which held the eye and centered all the 
immensity. 

It was one small cardinal flower, a plant that 
grows all the way along the Delaware. The 
intensity of its color is indescribable. After this 
superb exhibition of its power, one little red 
flower ao:ainst a mile of green and silver, I 
gathered every day a handful of the lovely 
blossoms and set them on the bow of the 
canoe. 

When one thinks of the marvels of this river, 
the regret becomes painful that they are unknown 
to the outer world, that they are only seen by the 
natives of the scenes and the accidental canoe 
voyager. 

The rivers are the veins and arteries of a 
country, the railroads and roads the nerves and 
sinew^s. 

He has seen the land truly, with its wealth 
and strength, who has followed the rivers from 
their sources in the hills down to the tide-pulsat- 
incr ocean-heart. But the railroads are familiar, 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 319 

the rivers unknown. " Sin writes histories," 
says Goethe : " goodness is silent." 

The river aftects men in a difterent way from 
the road. The dweller by the railroad is keen 
and quick to trade, and dicker, and undertake. 
The inhabitants of the river valleys are placid 
folk ; farmers content with their peaceful and 
laborious lives. 

Such homes as the poets have imagined are 
realities on every mile of the Delaware's banks. 
Xever before, in the same space, have I seen so 
many quiet, contented, and gentle working peo- 
ple. Scores and hundreds of farm-houses we 
passed, surrounded with flowers and foliage, the 
easy-chairs waiting on the wide porch, with the 
women sitting sewing, the children playing near 
the house, the men Avorking in the farmyard or 
in the spreading melon or peach fields, and the 
bright river moving forever before their eyes, 
with its great homely ferry-boat waiting below, 
where the shaded paths comes down the bank. 
Softly come to one's memory the lines of Bryant, 

^' O River, gentle River! gliding on 
In silence underneath this cloud -flecked sky 
Thine is a ministry that never rests, 
Even while the living slumber. 

At dead of night the child awakes and hears 
Thy soft, familiar dashings, and is soothed, 
And sleeps again." 



320 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

But one is tempted to linger too long on such a 
scene as this at AValpack Bend. Here, for the 
first time since we left Port Jervis, the water ran 
slowW. It is hard to leave a spot so beautiful, 
where so few strangers are led. Here was Nature 
at first hand. To impress it deeper on iny mind, 
I retrace our course, on the bank, to where, a 
hundred yards above the bend, a little singing 
river flows into the Delaware. Only a few inches 
deep, babbling over brown pebbles, bright as the 
sun itself in its flashes, coming down under a dim 
arch of trees and fringing underwood — a very 
dream of a little singing brook, that 
'■ Knows the way to the sea." 
Here, sitting on a stone, enjoying the soft susur- 
rus in my ears and in the leaves and in the rip- 
ples, comes along a country boy, fishing — down 
the dim arch, walking in the little river, bare- 
footed. 

''Bushmill Creek is its name," he says; and 
he knows no more about it — not how long it is, 
nor whence it comes. But yet a commentator 
and critic, this barefooted fisher. 

" How far have you fellows come?" he asked, 
examining the canoes. 

" From Port Jervis." 

" And how far are you going?" 

^'To Philadelphia," 



DOWN THE DEL AWAKE KIVER. 321 

''Well," — a long pause — ''you fellows must 
want something to do I " 

A song sung l)y some country girls and boys 
in a boat, passing close to the mountain foot, 
makes a memory of music and echo as vivid as 
the gleam of the cardinal flower. They slowly 
move their unwieldly-looking crooked oars, char- 
acteristic of the Delaware — the flat blade set on 
the oar at an obtuse ano'le. But this oar, hino:ed 
on the gunwale of the flat-bottomed boat, or 
l)ateau, is suited to a river of rifts, the bent blade 
enabling the rower to sweep the shallow water 
without striking;. 

The river is rich with bass, and the fishers are 
numerous. Below Walpack Bend, a lady in a 
boat, excited and joyous, holds up a splendid fish 
as we pass. 

" See ! I've just caught it ! " she says. It was 
at least five pounds weight. A gentleman in the 
boat tells us that we can run all the rapids down 
the river — ' ' except the Great Foul Eift ! " 

Here it was again ; and from this time forward, 
almost every one to whom we spoke warned us 
in about the same words. Hence grew an unex- 
pressed desire in each of our minds to get away 
from this croaking rapid ; we longed to reach and 
run it, and have done with it. 

But we were approaching one of the glories of 



322 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

the Delaware — the most famous and certainly the 
most sublmie — the Water Gap. AVe reached it 
unexpectedly. We knew when it was only a few 
miles awav, but we could see nothinof ahead but 
the unbroken mountain ran2:e on each side. One 
mile aw^ay, and the range had closed ai'ound us in 
a bight, leaving no perceptible opening for the 
river. 

' ' Where is the Water Gap ? " we asked a boat- 
ful of fishers, anchored under a bridire. 

" Youll see it in half a minute," they answered. 
''And look out! for just round the turn there, 
you will be in the rapid." 

We did not need the warnino- ; we were in the 
quick water already. Looking into the stream, 
we saw the yellow stones on the bottom fly stern- 
ward at an extraordinary pace. The roar of a 
powerful rapid reached us as we came to a sharp 
turn in the river ; and below us we saw a memo- 
rable scene. 

I do not know the descendins^ anale of that 
rapid, nor the measure of its fall; but it seemed 
as if we were on the top of a hill of rushing water, 
at the bottom of which, less than a mile away, 
was a vast wooded basin, its green slope broken 
by two white hotels set on the hillside, but still 
seemingly far below us. 

There was no time for admiration, or for any- 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. o2o 

thing but steering. We ran down the Jersey 
shore, close to the rocky mountain foot, in the 
fastest rush so far. The river plunged from ledge 
to ledge fiercely ; but the channel was deep. At 
the foot of the fall, we were shot into a whirlpool 
of yelloAV breakers that curled up and washed 
clean over the canoes, drenching all, and almost 
swamping one of them. 

We stopped at the Water Gap that night, and 
sat long on the wide veranda of the hotel, looking 
at the wonderful scene. The river passes between 
two mountains, as through a tremendous gateway ; 
and one feels, without knowing, that beyond that 
imperial portal, the scene must change into some- 
thing quite new and strange. 

This we found to be true : the Delaware may 
be said to have left the mountains when it pours 
through the Water Gap. Henceforth, its banks 
are bold, or even precipitous, as the right bank 
surely is in a wonderful cliff some miles below 
Reiofelsville ; but it is a mountain river no longer. 

In the morning, before starting, we climbed 
the mountain and looked down on the wild beauty 
of the Water Gap. From that height the fall in 
the river was imperceptible ; and the rapid that 
had astonished us the day before looked like a 
mere shallow brawl. 

Few people are aware of the force and danger 



324 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

of rapid broken water. To the person who 
drives or walks along a river, the rapid seems 
the safest spot, because it is obviously the shal- 
lowest. But, as the teamster said at Port Jervis, 
it is ''the bottom that is to be feared, not the 

top." 

''It is just the same with humanity," says 

Guiteras, when this thought is spoken ; '' it is the 

superficial and hasty people who make all the 

trouble. Depth of mind is as safe as depth of 

w^ater." 

The last word to us from the boat-keeper at 
the Water Gap was, of course, a warning about 
the Great Foul Eift. We ran two or three rapids 
that day that tested nerves and boats, and were 
exasperated to hear that they wwe ''smooth 
rifts," and " nothing at all to the Big Foul." 

In the high heat of the afternoon, we came to 
a place wdiere a little waterfall leaped down a 
bank almost twenty feet into the river. The 
falling water was white as snow. We w^ent 
under it and enjoyed a glorious shower bath, but 
found that in the centre the water fell in lumps 
almost as heavy and hurtful as clay. 

That day, too, we had another novel and de- 
lightful experience, ^^e came to an unbroken 
reach of river on which the descent was so great 
that a stretch of two miles before us resembled a 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 325 

coasting-hill of ice. The river was about five 
feet deep, with a gravel bottom. We let the 
canoes float, and we followed, with outspread 
arms and faces in the water, fairly coasting down 
that wonderful liquid slope. 

Late in the evening, not finding a pleasant 
camping place, we settled at last on a tolerable 
spot, on an island. We were tired, and we soon 
fell asleep — to be awakened by a shout of hor- 
ror from Guiteras, over whose hand a snake had 
crawled ! He had flung the reptile from him, out 
of the tent. 

After such a start, sleep was out of the ques- 
tion. AVe lay, however, and tried to rest. But 
every rustle of the leaves outside, every insect 
that stirred in the grass, brought a chill and 
creepy feeling. 

''I am going to sleep in the canoe," at last 
said one ; and at the word we gathered our 
blankets and abandoned the tent. 

If it were not for the danoer of strainino- the 
boat if pulled ashore, or of catching malaria if it 
be left afloat, the canoe is the pleasantest and 
easiest sleeping place. 

In the morning a swim, a solid breakfast, and 
an extra careful packing of the canoes. No one 
spoke of it ; but that morning we were each con- 
scious of a particular attention paid to the trim of 



326 ETHICS OF J?OXING AND MAXLY SPORT. 

the boats and the stowing of duiiiuige. At about 
eleven o'clock in the forenoon we would reach 
Belvidere ; and the Great Foul Rift was only a 
mile fiirther. 

There was a camp of bass iishers near us, and 
they came to see us start. They learned our in- 
tention of going down without portage, rift or no 
rift. They did not dissuade us. One of them 
said he knew the Big Foul Rift, and he gave us 
precise, too precise, instructions. All I could 
recall half an hour later was : " Keep to the right 
when you come to the big white stone —if there's 
water enough to float your boats." 

It was noon when we came to the town of 
Belvidere, and paddled into deep water under a 
mill. AVe needed some necessaries for our dinner, 
and we could buy them here. The school-boys 
flocked to the bank to see the canoes, and the 
mill-workers (it was the dinner hour) came down 
to have a chat. 

"You are not soinsr to run the rift?" asked 

one. 

" Yes, we are." 

''Thev can do it: thev don't draw more than 
two inches," said another. 

We knew that at least one of the canoes, heavily 
laden with baggage, and with a heavy man in her, 
drew more than six inches. We could get no 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 327 

information worth having, except a repetition of 
the fisherman's word : ' ' Keep to the right of the 
big rock, two-thirds of the way down, — if you 
can/' 

' ' Xobody has gone down the rift for five weeks," 
said the man who had first spoken. 

Guiteras was o-oins; ashore for the necessaries ; 
and as he stood in his canoe, about to step on a 
log that edged the bank, he slipped, and pitched 
head-first into the deep water. We were so used 
to going into the water anyway, that the other 
two sat quite still in the canoes, as if not heeding, 
while Guiteras climbed out and shook himself, in 
a matter-of-course kind of way. This nonchalance 
created an impression on the crowd ; and shortly 
after, when we started, the general prediction was 
audibly in our favor. 

" Keep to the right of the big white rock, and 
you will strike the channel," shouted a man as we 
started. 

Haifa mile or so below Belvidere, we felt the 
water quicken and sweep to the right — the Penn- 
sylvania bank. We knew we were in the first 
reach of the rapid that had been roaring for us 
since we started. 

There are two distinct rapids, — the Little Foul 
and the Great Foul, — divided by a reach of safe 
but swift water of half a mile. 



328 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

From the moment we struck the Little Foul 
Eift, we knew we were in the grip of a giant. 
We were as much astonished as if w^e had never 
run a rapid before. AYe shot dow^n the river — 
each one finding his own channel — like chips; 
and, with all our careful steering, we grazed 
several dano'erous stones. 

There was no stopping at the foot of the Little 
Foul Rift ; but we ran with the stream without 
paddling, and examined the entrance to the Great 
Rapid ahead. 

There w^as no bar or ledge formation here, as 
in the minor rifts behind us. The rocks stood 
up like the broken teeth of a sperm whale, irregu- 
larly across the river, and as far ahead as we 
could see from the canoes. Some of the stones 
were twelve feet out of the water, others of lesser 
height, and of all shapes ; some were level with 
the surface, and some covered with a few^ inches 
of w^ater. These last were the dangers : to strike 
and o'ct " hunof up " on one of these meant certain 
upsetting : for no boat coukl stand the rush, and 
there was no footing for tlie canoeman if he tried 
to get out to push her over. 

But more threatening than the tall rocks, that 
looked like a disorganized Stonehenge, was the 
terrible nature of the bed rock, and the broken 
stones on the bottom. AVe could steer between 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 329 

the teeth we saw, but we suddenly became con- 
scious of unseen teeth that lay in wait to lacerate 
the boats under the water-line. 

The whole bed of the river is formed of a rock 
that is worn and wasted in a stranofelv horrible 
way, as if it were pitted with a hideous small- 
pox. Round and oval holes are seen everywhere 
in the rock, some of them as much as two feet 
deep and three feet across ; and the upper edges 
of these bowls are as sharp as scythes. 

We saw the process of this singular pitting. 
Heavy stones are caught on an angle of the bottom 
and rolled over and over without proceeding, till 
they wear out these cup-like holes, and are buried 
deeper and deeper in their ceaseless industry. As 
the bowl increases in size, it catches two workers 
instead of one, and these grind each other and 
grind the matrix till the very heart of Xature 
must admit their toil, and pity their restlessness. 

Some of these great stone cups were high out 
of water, empty and dry ; and their round tor- 
mentors lay in peace on the bottom. Some were 
above the surface, but still half full of water that 
had dashed into them from the rapid. 

But there was a keener evil than the circular 
knife tops of these vessels ; and it was their 
broken edges. 

When the torrents of winter and spring thun- 



330 ETHICS OF BOxma and manly sport. 

der through the Great Foul Rift, whirling and 
drao:oino' trunks of trees and massive stones down 
the surcharged channels, the pitted ledges of bot- 
tom and bank are smashed like potsherds, the 
imprisoned stones are released and shoot down 
the river, and the fractured rock remains to cut 
the water with irregular edges as sharp as a shat- 
tered punch-bowl. 

We were going into the Great Foul Eift all 
this time, at the rate of — but who can tell the 
rate of rapid water? The best canoeman I know 
says there is no canoeing- water in America over 
twelve miles an hour, — I think he places this on 
the Susquehanna, below Columbia, — and that 
eight miles is very rapid indeed. He may be 
right; but, were Tasked how fast we went into 
the Great Foul Rift, I should say, at least, at the 
rate of twelve miles an hour, and, in parts of the 
descent, much faster. 

Guiteras went first, but was caught on a cov- 
ered flat stone in the quick, smooth water ; and 
Moseley led into the rapid, Guiteras, who had 
floated oflF, following. I came about fifty yards 
behind. 

From the first break of the water, the sensation 
was somewhat similar to that of falling through 
the branches of a tree. The river was twisting- 
do wn-hill in convulsions. We rushed through 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 331 

narrow slopes of ten or twenty feet as if we were 
fallino; and then shot round a rock, flino:in2^ the 
whole weight of our l:)odies on the steermg-pad- 
dle. The tall stones ahead seemed to be rushing 
at us with the velocity of an ocean steamer. 

All the time we were painfully conscious of the 
presence of the incisive edges under water, as 
one mio^ht feel the nearness of buro^lars' knives 
in the nioht. If we struck one of these stones 
on a downward shoot, it Avould rip the canoe 
from bow to stern. 

Moseley steered skilfully, and we cleared two- 
thirds of the tortuous descent without a shock. 
A quarter of a mile ahead we saw the smooth 
water at the foot of the rift. We had crossed 
the river, and were runnins; down on the Penn- 
sylvania shore. Suddenly, the channel we were 
in divided at a areat white stone, the wider water 
going to the left, toward the centre of the river, 
and a narrow black streak keeping straight down 
to the right. 

A memory of the warning came to me, " Keep 
to the right of the big rock, — if you can." But 
it was too late. A man could not hear his own 
shout in such an uproar. The white rock rushed 
past us. The canoes ahead had turned with the 
main stream, and were in the centre of the river 
in a flash. Suddenly both canoes ahead were 



332 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPORT. 

shot out of the channel, their bows in the air 
resting on a liiclden rock ; and the current, just 
then turning a sharp curve, swept hy their sterns 
with a rush. . Fortunately they w^ere out of the 
stream, driven into an eddy, or that had been 
the end of them. 

I had time to profit by their mishap. Kneeling 
in the canoe, using the long-handled paddle, I 
rounded the curve within a foot of the grounded 
canoes, and fairly leaped downhill on a rounded 
muscle of water. In the rush, a thrill swept my 
nerves — and anotlier — as if tAvice I had touched 
cold steel. I found later that my canoe had 
twice been pierced bv the knife-like edij^es under 
w^ater. 

Before I realized it, the end had come, and the 
canoe shot across the river in a sweeping eddy. 
The Great Foul Rift was behind me. 

A fisherman on the bank had been watching 
our passage. ''You ought to have kept to the 
right of that stone," he shouted. "See, there's 
the channel !*' And, looking up, I saw it, straight 
as a furrow from the big white stone, keeping- 
swift, close to the Pennsylvania shore, unbroken, 
and safe. Had we kept in this straight way the 
Great Foul Rift would to us have been no more 
than an exa2:i>'erated name. 

The grounded canoemen pushed free, and were 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 333 

down in a minute ; and then w^e went ashore, and 
while Moseley photographed the Great Foul Rift, 
the others phniged into the delicious water, that 
seemed too peaceful and sweet ever to have been 
violent and brutal. 

Half a mile l)elow the Great Foul Rift, we 
came to the pastoral scene of the voyage, par 
excellence. It was ideal and idyllic — sunny and 
varied as a AVatteau paintin<r. It was not irreat 
or grand in any way; but simply peaceful, pas- 
toral, lovely. 

It was a sloping hillside, of two or three farms, 
rising from the river. There were low-roofed 
homesteads, smothered in soft domestic-looking 
foliage. A round-arched stone l)ridge spanned 
a stream in the foreground. Cows and horses 
stood in the shadow of the trees in the fields, and 
a drove of cows stood in the river, the reflection 
as distinct as the cow — like Herrick's swans, that 
"floated double — swan and shadow." Dark 
woods framed the scene on both sides and on 
top, children's voices at play filled the air, and a dog 
barked joyously, joining in some romping game. 

We laid our paddles on the canoes in front of 
us, and floated a full mile through the lovelv 
picture. It can never be forgotten. In its 
quiet way, nothing equalled it on the whole river. 

" Photograph the place," I said to Moseley. 



334 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY 8POKT. 

^'No," he replied. ''It is too good for any 
thino; but memory/' 

And then foUoAved a rare picture of another 
kind, or rather a piece of statuary. We had 
stopped to cook and eat a nol:)le bass. AVe sat 
on the bank, near a cose}^ farm-house, which 
nestled in trees a little withdrawn from the riyer. 
The farmer, a young, roughly-clad man, with 
laughing bright eyes and a brown, good-humored 
face, came down the shady road, riding a great 
drauo'ht-horse, and leadins; another. Followinof 
him, were his two little sons, perhaps ten and 
twelye years old. 

He chatted pleasantly with us, while he unlaced 
his heayy boots, and undressed. 

'' Are you going to swim?" asked Guiteras. 

" I am o^oins^ to wash my horses," he said. 

Just then he pulled his gray woollen shirt oyer 
his head, and stood naked beside the horse, pre- 
paring to jump on his l)ack. We fairly shouted 
with admiration, the man was so superb!}^ hand- 
some, and so maryellously muscular. He smiled 
pleasantly, as if not surprised, jumped on his 
horse and rode into the deep water ; his two 
yellow-haired boys sitting on the bank, with 
theu' hands clasped in front of their legs, watch- 
ing their father with profound pleasure. 

We were accustomed to seeins: athletes in train- 



DOWN THE DELAWAKE KIVEK. 385 

ing ; but none of us had ever seen the equal of 
this man. He swam his horses out in the deep 
water for a quarter of an hour, riding like a Cen- 
taur, every muscle on his lithe body sinking, 
gathering, contracting, disappearing, in the most 
astonishing Avay. He was not a tall or heavy 
man. When dressed, he was almost common 
looking. But never a Greek or Roman gladiator, 
in life or marble, was more beautiful or more 
powerful than that young Jersey farmer. 

AVhen we came to float the canoes, after dinner, 
I saw, with dismay, that mine was almost half full 
of water. In a oiance, I realized the meanino- of 
the quick tremors that had chilled me in the last 
rush of the Great Foul Rift. The canoe had been 
struck twice under the water-line by the keen- 
edged rocks. 

I feared that the end of my trip had come ; but 
we emptied the water and found that the leaks, 
which were clean-cut, as if l)y a knife, had swelled, 
and almost closed. Eastonwas a dozen or fifteen 
miles away ; and when we got there, Moseley 
thought he could patch the canoe with resin and 
linen and make her water-tio'ht. 

But it was a heavy paddle, though the stream 
raced downhill. One of the cuts was bruised 
afresh, in a rapid about four miles above Easton, 
and the water spurted into the canoe. 



336 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

It was dark to blackness on a Saturda\' nii^lit 
as we paddled down to Easton. AVe had l)een 
told of a strong rapid just above the city, but we 
could not see it ; we could only hear it, the roar 
doubled by the night and the imagination. We 
had run two or three small rifts in the dusk, and 
had escaped pretty well ; and there was nothing 
for us but to venture again, in the dark, for 
nowhere could we find a place to land or leave 
our canoes. 

Heavy as a sick animal, my poor little water- 
loo'aed boat wallowed alono\ To strike now was 
doubly dangerous, for her weight would smash 
her, bow or beam. The other canoes w^ent ahead. 
We had been instructed to keep " on the Jersey 
side of the island." When we entered the rapids, 
we only paddled for steerage-wa}". The men 
ahead kept shouting tome; but, when the rush 
of the fall came, I was too far to the right, and 
I brought up heavily on the very outermost stone 
of the reef. 

The canoe was so firmly fixed, that I could 
have stayed there all night, by sitting quiet. I 
tried to push oft', l)ut could not. I tried to get 
out ; l)ut the stone was sloping, and oftered no 
footing. The w^ater, visible only for a few feet, 
like a flood of ink, ran with tremendous force on 
both sides of the stone. The other canoes were 



DOWN THE DELAWARE KIVER. 337 

out of hearing ; and the night was as black as the 
inside of a cave, with the l)right, electric lights 
of the city, a quarter of a mile away, set upon 
what seemed high cliffs above the river. 

However it was to be done, I must get out, and 
ease the canoe off the rock. This was one of the 
minutes in which the disgusted canoeman resolves 
to give up the sport. If I pushed her over, down 
stream,' I could never hold her to get in : she 
must ])e pulled back, and then pushed round the 
stone. Slowly and cautiously, I got out, and into 
the water behind the stone, which was almost 
waist-deep. AVhen the canoe was pulled back, 
I got in, with some trouble; and a few minutes 
later joined the others at the end of the rift. 

Then began a hunt for a landing. We found 
that, in the city of Easton, there is not a single 
landing-place where we could put up our l^oats 
for the night. At last vre were directed to a 
place where boats were kept on the l)ank, on the 
Jersey side ; and there we found an oldiging and 
interesting man named John Horn (the hoys 
called him -Tippy" Horn), who allowed us to 
carry the canoes up on his rocks, and who stored 
our baggage, and then rowed us across to Easton. 
He was an old river-man ; and he said that he 
had never seen the water so low as it was then. . 
He was a type of the calm, polite, and intelligent; 



338 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

common people we had met everywhere on the 
Delaware. He spoke so slowl}^ and enunciated 
his syllables so clearly, with his r's l)urring 
strongly, that you listened to his sensible sen- 
tences with odd pleasure. 

That night Ave stopped at an excellent hotel in 
Easton ; and, while enjoying the pleasant rest of 
room and bed instead of tent and sand, we re- 
ceived a visit from two aenial canoemen, who 
were on a pedestrian tour through the mining 
districts, and who recoo;nized our names on the 
register. One was Mr. Kirk Monroe, then presi- 
dent of the Xew York Canoe Club ; and the other, 
Mr. Ro2:ers, the artist, whose clever sketches in 
''Life" and other periodicals have made his re- 
putation national. 

We found the citizens of Easton suffering from 
the intolerable system of the '' Law-and-Order " 
fanatics, who controlled the town, and who had 
established a system of secret espionage of which 
the police were used as the tools. 

Next day, on the rocks, assisted by IVIr. Horn 
and Mr. Horn's two or three children, and pleas- 
antly watched by a sitting ring of smoking foundry- 
men, Moseley heated his resin, and patched the 
damaged Blanid from stem to stern. We found 
that the sharp edges of the Great Foul Rift had 
cut her as a bravo cuts his victim. When we 



DOWi^ THE DELAWARE KIVER. 339 

floated her, she had anything but a racing ))ottoni ; 
but she was as tight as a drum. 

Below Easton, opposite the great rolling-mill, 
we saw a sight of striking efl^ect, — a multitude of 

men and l)oys — perhaps a hundred altogether 

stripped for swimming, and standing on the high 
1)ank. They were outlined against the sky ; and 
as we passed them a hundred yards off, they 
seemed models of lightness and grace. It wrl 
probably the great number Ox^ white bodies that 
made the scene so strano-e. 

Such peaches as we lived on that day such 

cantelopes, such melons ! Such an island as we 
camped on, with clean sand as soft as flour ! Such 
a spring pouring out of the mountain across the 
river, the water as cold as ice, and as clear as 
liquid diamonds ! We enjoyed it with the keen- 
ness born of regret ; for next day one of our party 
would have to leave the river. 

At Reigelsville, next day, a little Jersey town 
on a high bank, :Moseley boarded the train with 
his canoe. The other two proceeded; but it was 
lonely for a day or two, and we sadly missed the 
strong 'canoeman and the cheery companion who 
had left us. 

A few miles below Reigelsville the river makes 
a dive down hill, without breaking, so that we 
seemed to be on a level with the^tops of trees 



340 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

ofrowin^: on the bank a mile ahead. At the foot 
of such a decline, we heard the growl of a rapid, 
and found a division m the river, formed by an 
island. We kept to the left : we ought to have 
kept to the right. AVith a few touches, I got 
through; but Guiteras was ''hung up" in the 
worst part of the rajoid. He tried all ways to 
get oif without leaving the boat : but he had to 
come to it in the end. And a dangerous time he 
had for a few minutes. The water was deep, and 
the powerful current swept the boat against his 
body, and nearly upset him. He had hard work 
to hold her back, and get in without capsizing. 

Then we came to one of the noblest features of 
the whole river. On our right, rising sheer as a 
wall from the water, was a clift', which must be 
several hundred feet high. It was formed of 
layers of rock, each layer perhaps forty or fifty 
feet deep, and each differing a little in color from 
the others, so that it looked like a vast storied 
buildins:. On the narrow ledo'e at the foot of 
each layer, trees and shrubs grew, so that the 
whole face of the clift' was softened with foliage 
which was so feathery that still the entire wall 
was visible. In places it was like the outer 
barrier of a miu'htv fortress ; and in others there 
was an absolute likeness to artificial masonry. 

This majestic clift' ran for perhaps a mile. 



DOWN THE DELAAV ARE RIYEK. 341 

and then ended abruptly in a soft green hillside 
of cultiv^ated fields. 

But our last rapid had started the leaks in my 
canoe, and I was bailing every few hundred 
yards. As the evening was closing, and it threat- 
ened rain, we resolved to carry the canoes into 
the canal, get aboard a canal-boat, and mend the 
broken Blanid. 

The tow-path was only a hundred yards from 
the river. A hearty canal-man made us Avelcome 
on his -boat which had a hundred tons of coal on 
board. His name, he told us, was "Johnnie 
Curran, from Bristol, down the river." His mate 
wns a small; foxy man, called " Billy," who spoke 
and walked like a paralytic ; but a civil fellow 
when he got a little present. 

'' Johnnie " Curran was about thirty-three years 
old ; rather below middle stature, but sti'ong and 
active, with a stern fiice, like a fighting man ; 
l)ut with a merry eye and a smile in keeping, so 
that his features were lit up with constant good- 
humor and ofood-nature. He had lost two front 
teeth, and there was a deep scar on his forehead. 

Everyone knew him on the tow-path and the 
canal. He was constantly hailing some friend, 
man or woman, by familiar names, or returning 
like friendly salutations. He had been canalling 
" twenty years, like his father before him." He 



342 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

had never known so poor a year as this for canal- 
men. But, poor as he was, he threw a loaf or 
something else to every poor tramp we passed on 
the tow-path. 

He was called, and he called himself, '' John- 
nem." In the night (we slept on his boat, which 
was tied to the bank) we heard passing hails : 
' ' Who are you ? " " Johnnem . " " Hello , John- 
nem ; hope you're well ! " 

A memoral)le incident occurred while Ave Avere 
on Johnnem's boat. We passed a canalside inn, 
where men and mules are housed. The landlord, 
an old canaller, sat at the door, and hailed us 
warmly. 

''Who did you have over Sunday?" asked 
Johnnie Curran. 

" Oh, we had a good time — a lot of the right 
sort. We had Barrett, and Patterson, and Al- 
leghany — and a lot more; and then — Ave had 
MUve ! " 

''Mike! Well, then, you did have a good 
time. Where Avas he going?" 

" Went down to Lambertville, last night." 

"Good by!" 

" Good luck, Johnnem ! " 

Then Johnnie told us what a "good felloAV " 
Mike Avas, and how popular on the canal. We 
soon had evidence to that effect. A boat, passing, 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVER. 343 

entertained us with an account of ^ ' a great time " 
with Mike the nio-ht before. 

Presently we passed a pretty little cottage be- 
tween the canal and the river ; over the low garden 
irate leant a vounir woman, whom Johnnie Cur- 
ran saluted thus : 

^' Evenin', Julia." 

''Evenin', Johnnem.'' 

Johnnie, with a wink at us, to cover his 
duplicity : 

" ]Mike here Sunda}^? " 

" No," sulkily ; " but he was up at Steele's." 

" Well — he'll come next Sunda^^" 

'^ Don't care if he never comes." 

" Oh, yes you do. Good-by, Julia." 

" Xo, I don't. Good-by Johnnem." Pause of 
moment. 

" Say, Johnnem ! " 

''What is it?" 

" You needn't tell Mike I said that." 

'' No fear, Julia. I'll tell him to come up 
Sunday." 

And Johnnie Curran laughed low to himself, 
as if he knew the ways of womankind. It was a 
dismal drizzly eyenino' and we had to a'o alons: 
till ten o'clock. Then, at Lambertville, we were 
to tie up till morning. As the night grew the 
rain increased, and at ten it was a stead}^ down- 



344 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPORT, 

pour. AVe were grateful for the shelter of the 
stifling little cabin of the canal-boat, where 
'' Billy " snored, and ''Billy's" dog had convul- 
sive dreams, in one of which he plunged over 
Guiteras, and scratched his face. 

It was about five next niornino' when we started. 
I was half asleep in the cabin when I heard a man 
shout from the tow-path. 

" Johnnem, did you hear about Mike?" 

There was somethino; in the man's tone that 
made me sit up and listen. 

''What about him?" 

" He's down there on the lock — drowned ! " 

" God I " hissed Johnnie Curran, as if he had 
been struck by a missile. " Drowned, you say?" 

" Dead I We took him out of the canal last 
nio:ht. He fell in comin' aboard. Poor Mike !" 

AVhen we came to the lock, Johnnie Curran 
jumped ashore and joined the group of canal-men, 
who stood near the Ijody. They moved aside to 
let Johnnie see ; and he stood with folded arms a 
full minute lookins: down at Mike. Then he drew 
a long breath, and turned away, rapidly brushing 
his eyes with his hand, and came aboard. He 
went on with his work without a word, thou^'h it 
was obvious that the dead man had been an old 
and close friend. 

We crossed the river in Johnnie Curran's boat, 



DOWN THE DELAAVARE KIVER. 345 

and left him soon after, carrying our canoes down 
to the river. Welles's Falls, at Lanibertville, had 
not water enouo-h to float us throu«:h. The run 
before us was about ten miles to Trenton, and the 
stream was swift. It was a perfect afternoon, 
clear, warm, and calm. The scenery above Tren- 
ton is surprisingly beautiful, though there is no 
elevation higher than the tree-tops. It was a 
superb open picture of river and reflection, wood 
and cloud, with the city spires in the distance 
seen under the square openings of tw^o extraordi- 
narily-handsome ])ridges. It would l)e diflScult to 
name, in the world, a more beautiful opening to 
a city than the four miles of the Delaware above 
Trenton. 

"The Trenton Canoe Club" was the legend 
printed on a boat-house under the shadow of the 
city bridge ; and there we stopped. 

The house was closed ; but we went up to the 
genial toll-keeper of the bridge, — a venerable 
man, with a face like George Washington, and a 
manner to equal it, — who stored our traps and 
directed us to the hotel. The old man pointed out 
the difliculties of Trenton Falls, below the brido;e, 
and said that he had hardly ever seen the water 
so low. 

" 111 go with you myself, to-morrow !" said the 
courteous veteran; ''I'll take a boat and show 
vou the wnv dowai the falls." 



346 ETHICS OF BOXIXG AND MANLY SPORT. 

Next morning he was " as good as his word ;" 
but we had with us the president of the Canoe 
Club, who ran down the intricate channel of 
the falls, readily and pleasantly chatting all the 
while. He was in a light canoe, which he handled 
splendidl^^ 

''A few years ago, before we began canoeing 
here," he said, ''everyone dreaded these falls. 
Nobody ever ran them but the lumbermen. Now 
we come down in our canoes for fun, and drag the 
boats back alongshore." 

At the bottom of the falls, which are more por- 
tentous in name and aspect than in descent or 
velocity, we entered tidal water. No more rapids 
or rifts to Philadelphia, or the sea. The kindly 
Trenton canoeman left us w^ith a manly grip that 
was pleasant to remember ; and, with the wind 
and tide against us, we started for Philadelphia, 
forty-five miles away. 

Below Trenton the Delaware is uninteresting 
for canoemen. We were so used to swift water 
that we seemed to be anchored while paddling 
under adverse circumstances. We stopped at 
Florence that night, and next day shipped our 
canoes on a river steamer, and ran down to Phila- 
delphia. 

Looking: back, we salute the Delaware with 
love and admiration. It has filled our minds with 



DOWN THE DELAWARE RIVEU. 347 

memories and pictures to be cherished for a life 
time. Noblest of rivers for canoemen, but only 
for those who come before the middle of July. 
In the freshets of May and June, a run down the 
Delaware must be a revelation of joy. Then, not 
one rock of all that beset our way would be visible 
or dangerous. We came down a depleted vein : 
in early summer the Delaware is a full artery. 
But with all these drawbacks, on our list of 
canoeing-rivers we must give the first place to the 
Delaware. 







- • vMV»V 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP 



The Dismal Swamp of Virginia and North 
Carolina is one of the celebrated features of the 
American continent. Its name is almost as famil- 
iar as Niagara or the Rocky Mountains. Its limits 
are not easily defined, no careful survey or good 
map of the region having ever been made. It lies 
in two States, on the Virginia side in the counties 
of Nansemond and Princess Anne, and on the 
North Carolina side in the counties of Gates, Pas- 
quotank, Camden, and Currituck. Almost in the 
centre lies Lake Drummond, or '^ the Lake of the 
Dismal Swamp," which is seven miles by five in 
extent, according to local records, but three miles 
by two and a half by our measurement. The area 
of the swamp is between eight hundred and one 
thousand square miles. Its reputation is that of a 
morass of forbidden and appalling gloom, a region 
impenetrable to the search of student or hunter; 
the fecund bed of fever and malaria, infested with 

(351) 



352 ETHICS OF BOXING AKD MANLY SPORT. 

deadly serpents and wild beasts ; the old-time refuge 

of fugitive slaves, who preferred life in its lonely 

recesses to the life-in-death of the slave-quarter 

and the man-market. It is supposed by the outer 

world, and even by those who reside on its borders, 

to be a hopeless wilderness, an incurable ulcer on 

the earth's surface, a place that would have been 

long ago forgotten but for its shadowy romance, — 

for its depths were once enlightened, though it 

is over fourscore years ago, by the undying song 

of a famous poet. Some of this evil character is 

true, but most of it is untrue, and much of the 

slander has not been accidental, but deliberate. 

It is true that the hunted slave often heard the 
baying of the bloodhounds as he crouched in the 
cane-brake of the Dismal Swamp, or plunged into 
its central lake to break the trail, and true also 
that its hundreds of miles of waterlogged forest is 
infested w^ith repulsive and deadly creatures, rep- 
tile and beast, bear, panther, wild-cat and^ snake ; 
but it is not true that the Dismal Swamp is an 
irreclaimable Avilderness, the pestilent source of 
miasma and malaria. 

The Dismal Swamp is an agony of perverted 
nature. It is Andromeda, not waiting for the 
monster, but already in his grasp, broken and 
silent under the intolerable embrace. 



CAKOEES'G IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 353 

The Lake of the Dismal Swamp is the very eye 
of material anguish. Its circle of silvery beach is 
flooded and hidden, and still the pent-up water, 
vainly beseeching an outlet, is raised and driven 
in unnatural emnity to the roots of the tall 
juniper, cypress, and gum trees, that completely 
surround its shore. The waves that should mur- 
mur and break on a strand of incomparable 
brilliancy, are pushed beyond the'ir proper limits, 
and compelled to soften and sap the productive 
earth; to wash bare and white the sinews of the 
friendly trees, and inundate a wide region of 
extraordinary fertility. The bleached roots of 
the doomed trees seem to shudder and shrink from 
the weltering death. There is an evident bend- 
ing upward of the overtaken roots to escape 
suffocation. The shores of the lake are like a 
scene from the "- Inferno." Matted, twisted, and 
broken, the roots, like living things in danger, 
arch themselves out of the dark flood, pitifully 
striving to hold aloft their noble stems and 
branches. The water of the lake, dark almost as 
blood, from the surface flow of juniper sap and 
other vegetable matter, is forced from six to ten 
feet above its natural level, and driven by winds 
hither to this bank to-day and thither to-morrow, 
washing every vestige of earth from the helpless 



354 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT, 




CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 355 

life-givers, till its whole circumference is a woful 
net-work of gnarled trunks and intertwined fibres, 
bleached and dry as the bones of a skeleton, and 
sheltering no life, but that of the blue lizard and 
red-throated moccasin. 

These bare roots and blasted stumps circle the 
water like a hideous crown, till the lake becomes 
a realization of the Medusa. Here, far from the 
voices of mankind, the Gorgon stares at heaven, 
but sees with introverted eye only the writhing 
horror of her own brow ; hears only the hiss, and 
shrinks from the kiss of her serpent locks, gazing 
into no living eyes but those of her own damnable 
strands. 

The Lake of the Dismal Swamp is a victim 
waiting for deliverance. Release her, and she is 
no longer Medusa ; the snake hair will give place 
to bands of gold and light ; the region contami- 
nated by her oppression will rejoice and blossom 
like a garden. 

The Lake of the Dismal Swamp is the well of 
the swamp's desolation. The SAvamp is not from 
itself, but from the well. 

The region of the Dismal Swamp was intended 
by nature to be a pleasure ground, a health resort, 
and a game preserve for the eastern side of the 
continent. In spite of all that has been done and 



356 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

left undone to destroy it, the swamp itself is, 
probably, the healthiest spot in America. Its 
delicious juniper water prevents malaria more 
effectually and perfectly than the famed eucalyp- 
tus of Australia. The flying game of the continent 
centres in this region, and the lake in winter is 
the best shooting ground in the country. Now 
that wealthy clubs and individuals are buying up 
the coast shooting, this incomparable natural pre- 
serve ought to be secured for the nation or the 
State. 

Its original undoing was probably some acci- 
dent or cataclysm of nature, changing a water 
course or opening a crater-like spring or number 
of springs. 

But the remedy from the first was as easy and 
as open to intelligence as the tapping of a vein to 
prevent plethora. The lake, it is probable, was 
the centre and the cause of the swamj), as is 
proved by the streams flowing out of, instead of 
into, it. Its overflowing Avaters, when swelled by 
rains or springs, finding no natural channel of 
escape, rose foot by foot to the very lip of the 
cup, covering the beach and reaching the densely 
wooded shore. 

In this way has been brought about the singular 
condition of the lake, which, instead of being the 
lowest, is the highest portion of the Dismal Swamp. 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL enVxlMP. 357 

It could ba pierced and drained at any point, and 
reduced to natural and beautiful proportions. Its 
overflow, instead of constantly deluging the sur- 
rounding land, could be guided in ten thousand 
sparkling channels to enrich and adorn its won- 
derful environment. 

The Lake of the Dismal Swamp is, by survey, 
about twenty-three feet higher than the sea, and it 
is not fifteen miles from tide-water, the interven- 
ing land being a level slope, and, except for the 
trees, exceedingly easy to channel. 

And, stranger still, the channels have been dug 
for over one hundred years ; but they are locked up 
at the outer ends w ith wooden gates. 

Ponder on this marvellous fact : the Lake of 
the Dismal Swamp, three miles by two and one 
half in extent, and from seven to fifteen feet in 
depth, is situated on the side, and almost on the 
top, of a hill, beside a tidal river, and yet it 
creates by overflow all around it for about one 
thousand square miles, one of the densest and 
darkest morasses on the surface of the earth. 

In 1763, George Washington surveyed the Dis- 
mal Swamp, and discovered that the western side 
was much higher than the eastern, and that rivers 
ran out of the swamp, and not into it. He then 
wrote that the swamp was " neither a plain nor a 
hollow, but a hill-side." 



358 ETHICS OF BOXING AND IVIANLY SPOKT. 

A member of the National Geological Survey 
recently entered the Dismal Svv^amp, proceeding 
westward from the Dismal Swamp Canal toward 
the lake, and found that the rise in the land was 
five and one-half feet in seven miles. We met 
this gentleman, Mr. Atkinson, within the bounds 
of the swamp, and on hearing his statement asked 
him, '' Coukl the lake be lowered and the swamp 
drained with such an incline?" 

'' Certainly," he said. " It is a very decided 
water-shed. An opening from the lake to the 
tide, on the Elizabeth River on the one side and 
the Pasquotank on the other, would have a fall of 
twenty-two and six-tenths feet in a distance of less 
than fifteen miles." 

Why, then, is not the lake tapped and its 
superfluous and injurious water drained? 

If the Dismal Swamp lie on the side of a hill, 
as science proves, and the flow of the water 
demonstrates, why does not its superfluous water 
run off into the sea ? 

If the whole extent of the Dismal Swamp, land 
and lake together, is from twelve to twenty-fis^e 
feet higher than the sea level, while actually ad- 
joining the sea, why, in the name of reason, is it 
not drained and reclaimed? 

These are the vital questions relating to the 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 359 

Dismal Swamp. I shall answer them one by one, 
and the answer in each case shall not be an 
opinion, but a demonstration. 

In the month of May, 1888, two sunburned white 
men in cedar canoes turned at right angles from 
the broad water of the Dismal Swamp Canal, and 
entered the dark and narrow channel, called the 
Feeder, that pierces the very heart of the swamp, 
and supplies the great canal with water from Lake 
Drummond, or the ''Lake of the Dismal Swamp." 
The men in the canoes Avere Mr. Edward A. 
Moseley and the writer of this article. 

These were almost the first canoes, except the 
"white canoe" of the poet, that ever paddled on 
the breast of the dusky lake since the disappear- 
ance of the Indian hunters a century ago. The 
only boats known to the lake are the long, rude 
" dugouts," of the negroes, and the flat-bottomed 
dories or punts, of the farmers along the east side 
of the canal. 

While we were in the main canal we found the 
banks high, especially on the western side, where 
the diggings and dredgings of the channel have 
been heaped for a century. On this side, behind 
the bank, lay the unbroken leagues of swamp, 
crowded with dense timber and canebrake jungle, 
the surface of the land or mue being considerably 



3(30 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKTo 

lower than the surface of the canal. On the east 
side ran the road, and beyond this, long stretches 
of level country, formerly part of the Dismal 
Swamp, but now more or less cleared, with here 
and there a farm of astonishing superiority, and 
at long intervals a straggling village, usually con- 
nected Avith a saw-mill for juniper and cypress. 
Originally the canal ran right through the swamp, 
which it now borders on the eastern side. 

The land east of the canal has been cleared, 
because it has been drained into the sea. The fall 
is to the east. But all the land west of the canal 
is still unrelieved and "dismal" swamp. 

How is this ? Does not the land on the west 
side drain into the canal, as the land eastward has 
drained into the sea ? No ! the canal has com- 
pletely stopped drainage ; it is higher than all the 
western swamp. 

Then came the startling suggestion, striking us 
both at the same time. Tliis canal is a cruel liga- 
ture on the vitals of the swamp, shutting it in on 
itself and suffocating it. The canal is higher than 
the swamp, and instead of draining it, drowns it. 
The canal is a straggler, and here before our eyes 
was a deliberate process of land murder ! 

But I have outstripped the canoes. Let me 
begin at the beginning, and tell this story of a 



362 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

delightful summer outing, and stop this '' damna- 
ble iteration " of the sufferings and wrongs of the 
Dismal Swamp. The sw^amp cannot grieve at 
whatever infamy may be put upon it. What does 
it care, or who does care w^hether the wonderful 
lake be ringed with silver sand or hedged with 
bleached roots and twisting serpents ? " But the 
pity of it, lago ! Oh, lago, the pity of it ! " 

Go back again to Norfolk with me, and try to 
forget that you have been inside the gates of this 
brown-water canal of the Dismal Swamp. It was 
not fair to begin my tale in the middle. Surely I 
have made a mistake and told the story of the 
swamp too soon. But I have only told the story; 
it remains for me yet to prove it. 

It is seven o'clock in the morning, and we two 
are in the market of Norfolk buving bacon, salt 
pork, hard bread, cheese, a ham, an alcohol stove, 
and all the necessaries for a few weeks' sojourn in 
the wilderness. 

At eight o'clock, breakfast over, we are getting 
into rough suits in the office of Gen. Groner, of 
the Merchants' and Miners' Transportation Com- 
pany, whose courtesy we shall remember with 
pleasure. 

At ten o'clock we are on board a tug, kindly 
placed at our disposal by Mr. R. B. Cook, the 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 363 

virile manager of the N. Y., P. & N. Railroad, to 
take us to the first lock or. the Dismal Swamp 
Canal, which runs into the Elizabeth river about 
seven miles from Norfolk. Just think of it ! the 
entrance to the Dismal Swamp only seven miles 
from the busiest city in the South, a city that is 
destined to become one of the greatest commercial 
ports on the continent ! 

Let me stop here to moralize over this laggard 
among the great commercial cities, this voluntary 
Cinderella, who was born with the diadem on 
her brow, but allowed it to grow tarnished, and at 
last to be taken from her head by a less favored 
rival. Norfolk has vast advantages over any other 
seaport on the Atlantic coast. They are apparent 
to every observing stranger ; but they have never 
been properly estimated or developed by her own. 
Norfolk could have led the van of all the Eastern 
cities in the race for commercial prosperity ; but 
she let the breeze go past without unreefing her 
sails ; and she saw the slower hulls of Baltimore, 
Boston, Philadelphia, and New Orleans, pass her 
under clouds of canvas and sail clean out of sight. 

What is the matter with Norfolk ? What ails 
Virginia, that she is not the proud mother of a 
greater New York ? The possibilities of Norfolk 
have always been in full view. Thomas Jefferson, 



364 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

who was a student of the favored localities and 
resources of the country, and especially of his 
own State, declared that Norfolk was destined to 
be " the great emporium of the Chesapeake." 
Madison agreed with Jefferson, holding it to be 
" the true interest of Virginia to foster the pros- 
perity of Norfolk, as among the prime objects of 
her policy." But Virginia acted like a step- 
mother, stolidly spending twenty million dollars to 
improve Richmond, to one hundred and ninety 
thousand dollars to develop Norfolk. 

In later days, Maury said : '' Norfolk is in a 
position to have commanded the business of the 
Atlantic seaboard. It is midway on the coast ; it 
has a back country of great fertility and resources ; 
and as to the approaches from the ocean, there is 
no harbor, from St. John to the Rio Grande, 
which has the same facility of ingress and egress 
at all times and in all w^eathers. * * * 
Virginia saw those advantages, and slept on 
them." 

But she is waking ; or at least Norfolk is waking 
to her own interests ; and with men of extraor- 
dinary intelligence and energy, like Gen. Groner 
and Mr. Cook, above mentioned, who are each 
building up enormous commercial enterprises, it is 
probable that even in our own time, we shall see 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 365 

the radiance of this aroused Soatheni Cinderella, 
as she reaches northward for Yibv borrowed coronet. 

But we have kept the tug waiting more than an 
hour, and the captain, a manly, weather-tanned 
fellow, apologizes for having to keep an engage- 
ment to tow a railroad float across the harbor, 
before he starts with us for the lock. 

What matter for a few hours' delay here or 
there ? We have cut our social and orderly bonds, 
and we gladly sit and smoke on the tug, while she 
pulls and pushes and screams and at last backs 
the tremendous float into open water, and buckles 
to her heavy tow with the grunting earnestness of 
honest toil. We also improve the waiting by 
arranging our baggage, oiling gun and rifle, fixing 
hooks and lines, and otherwise giving a last touch 
to the arrangements. 

At one o'clock the tug started with u.s for the 
lock. There was a queer nervousness about us as 
we neared - the place, caused by our complete 
ignorance of what the swamp was like. 

" You see that schooner yonder? " said the cap- 
tain of the tug, looking across the fields round 
which the crooked river Avinds. " She is lying at 
the lock of the canal, loading with lumber from 
the swamp." 

Presently one of the hands on the tug pointed 



366 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOET. 

to the water ; the river had grown dark like the 
stream from a dye-works. ''See," he said, ''that 
is the juniper water of the Dismal Swamp." 

It was singular that neither the captain nor his 
men could tell anything about the swamj). Their 
knowledge ended at the lock. This is character- 
istic of the' whole neighboring poj)ulation. Rich- 
mond knows as little about the swamp as Boston ; 
even Norfolk and Suffolk know little more. 

"All I know," said the captain, "is that there 
are lots of snakes in there." 

"And bears," says another. 

" And panthers," says a third, and so on, and 
so on, while each one gave a friendly hand to 
launch the canoes as we closed to a wharf near the 
lock, where about thirty colored men were loading 
a schooner with lumber and bundled shingles of 
juniper and cypress. 

"If I were going in there, I'd keep my Smith- 
and- Wesson handy," said the second hand on the 
tug, as we touched the shore. Before we could 
ask the meaning of the unpleasant hint (which 
we found to be a libel on the swamp), the sturdy 
little steamer had backed out, and was whistling 
"Good-by," 

The crowd of colored workmen stopped and 
stared at our heap of baggage, and at the hand- 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWJlMP. 367 

some, varnished little boats, but soon were recalled 
to their work, and we were left to go on packing 
the canoes. 

The lock-keeper, a gaunt, badly-dressed white 
man, sauntered down from his lock to take a look 
at the strange boats. He was very obviously 
chewing tobacco, and he spoke slowly and nasally. 

Before the loading was half done, our first and 
almost our last misfortune occurred. Mr. Mose- 
ley's canoe, with timbers warped from a winter's 
storage, was leaking like a sieve. Out must come 
the packages again — pork, blankets, camera, am- 
munition, etc. 

"• What shall we do now ? " 

''- Hire a mule to tow us, and keep bailing the 
canoe till the wood swells and stops the leak." 

''Mr. Lockman," we asked, ''can you let us 
have a mule?" 

" Yes," very slowly, and looking at the boats, 
not at U3. " I have a mule ; but them boats won't 
tow." 

" But we know better. They will tow. Can 
we have the mule?" 

" Them boats won't tow," still more slowly. 

" Can we have the mule ? " impatiently. 

" Not to tow them boats. They won't tow, I 
tell ye." 



868 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

Argument and entreaty were in vain. It was 
none of his business we held, and we knew better 
than he, anyway ; but the man was stubborn, 
though not at all sullen. 

It was getting late in the afternoon, and we 
had intended reaching, that evening, the house of 
Capt. Wallace, who had a large farm in the swamp, 
about twelve or fifteen miles up the canal, and to 
whom a friend of Moseley's had written about our 
trip. 

At last we compromised with the lockman, who 
let us have the mule and a cart, with a one-legged 
colored driver, to carry our baggage to the village 
of Deep Creek, a few miles up the canal. 

Then we entered the first lock of the Dismal 
Swamp Canal, directly from the tide-water of the 
Elizabeth River, and were raised probably eight 
feet to the lowest level of the canal. This means 
that if this lower lock were opened, the whole 
Dismal Swamp could be drained to the depth of 
eight feet. 

We parted from the unreasonable lockman with 
no kindly feelings ; but we learned before night 
that his intentions had not only been kind, but 
exceptionally honest, and his knowledge quite 
correct of the towing qualities of an eighty-pound 
canoe. 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 369 

A word about the history of the canah A 
company for the cutting of the Dismal Swamp 
Canal was chartered by the States of Virginia 
and North Carolina, in 1787, and both States sub- 
scribed generously to the stock. The United 
States Congress also became a large stockholder. 
The names of George Washington and Patrick 
Henry were among the first subscribers for the 
stock; though this canal for commerce must not 
be confounded with an earlier system of canals or 
ditches, devised by Washington himself for the 
purpose of reclaiming the swamp by lightering 
the timber to the frontier. These canals still 
exist ; but the charter of the commercial canal 
gave it absolute rights over the waters of the 
lake and all other canals in the swamp. It was 
not opened till 1822, in which year the first 
vessel passed through to Norfolk from the Albe- 
marle Sound. It was completed in 1828. 

The cost of cutting the canal and its tributaries 
was about tAvelve hundred thousand dollars, and 
it is estimated that the expense of the earlier 
canals, also largely from public money, was 
several hundred thousand dollars more. 

The Dismal Swamp Canal runs nearly north 
and South, joining the Elizabeth River to the Pas- 
quotank, above Elizabeth City, N. C, the distance 



370 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

between those points being about forty miles. 
The canal is forty feet wide, chartered to be eight 
feet deep, fresh water, the color of dark brandy or 
strong breakfast tea (the color caused by the juni- 
per sap and other vegetable qualities), but clear 
and palatable, and singularly wholesome. The 
banks, where we could see the cutting under the 
foliage, were composed of fine yellow sand mixed 
with broken shells. A profusion of wild-rose 
bushes, myrtle, sweet bay, fiow^ering laurel, white 
blackberry blossoms, and honeysuckle leaned over 
the water and made a most lovely border. 

The afternoon was pleasant, with a cool wind 
in our favor, and, though Mr. Moseley had bailing 
enough to do, we reached Roper's enormous saw- 
mill and factory, at Deep Creek, in about an hour. 
The yards of the factory swarmed with colored 
workmen, and the works covered a large area. 
There were immense piles of railroad ties, cypress 
shingles, laths, and juniper saw-logs on the side of 
the canal, which here widened out like a harbor. 
The violent rising scream ot the saws sounded 
everywhere, something like ''p-sh-sh-sh-sh — hai- 
ai-Ai-AI ! " the last note an ear-splitting squeal, 
like a pig in direful pain. 

Mr. John L. Roper, the owner of this saw-mill, 
leases the timber land of almost the entire swamp 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. ^ 371 

to supply his mill. He keeps in the swamp 
probably one hundred men or more, in different 
gangs, cutting juniper and cypress, which they 
drag by mules over the ''gum roads " to the lake, 
whence it is lightered through the Feeder to the 
Dismal Swamp Canal, and by this means carried 
to the saw-mill at Deep Creek. The colored 
workers in the juniper groves of the swamp are 
its only inhabitants ; they are called '' swampers." 
Let me here explain that Lake Drummond is the 
centre of the swamp's organism, acting precisely 
like a heart. Except the Dismal Swamp Canal, 
which runs along the border, all the roads, canals, 
and ditches that pierce the swamp, radiate from 
the lake like spokes from a hub. 

The swamp has only one natural feature — the 
lake. All the rest is simply swamp. The canals 
and roads are accidents. 

Whoever would know the Dismal Swamp must 
study it from the lake, not from the exterior. 
This is the reason that even those living in its 
neighborhood know so little about it. Their 
knowledge is local, not constitutional. 

A ''gum road " is a road formed by trunks of 
trees about eight feet long, laid close together, 
and bearing two rude wooden rails. On these 
run low mule wagons or trucks, loaded with logs 



372 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 




CANOEING ON THE DISMAL SWAMP. 373 

cut in the interior. The mule goes securely on 
the ''gum road," and the negro driver usually 
walks ahead on one of the broad rails. 

There was no one at Roper's saw-mill who could 
give us any information, so Ave paddled on to the 
village of Deep Creek, before reaching which we 
passed through another lock. Here the Dismal 
Swamp proper may be said to begin. At this lock 
we were again raised several feet, so that we were 
noAv, although only a few miles from tidal-water, 
probably sixteen feet above the sea level. 

'' Shall we pay toll here ? " Ave asked the lock- 
man. 

'' Not till you come out," he answered, making 
it clear that there was only one entrance and exit 
on this side of the Dismal Swamp. 

"' Does the swamp begin here ? " 

'' Yes," said the lockman, leaning at an angle of 
forty degrees, and slowly pushing the great beam 
with his back. " It begins here, and it runs all 
the way to Florida." 

This was true, in a way. The Avhole southern 
coast is margined by swamp lands ; but the Dismal 
Swamp is not of them. It is high land instead of 
low land; its water is fresh, instead of salt or 
brackish. Among swamps it is an abnormality. 
It leans over the sea, and yet contains its own 



374 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

moisture, like a bowl. Indeed, the Dismal Swamp 
is a great bowl, forty miles long, and ten to twenty 
miles wide, and, strange to say, with its highest 
water in the centre. The sides of the bowl are 
miles of fallen and undecaying trees, fixed in a 
mortar of melted leaves and mould. Deep in the 
soft bosom of the swamp are countless millions of 
feet of precious timber that has lain there, the 
immense trunks crossing each other like tumbled 
matches, ''since the beginning of the world," as a 
juniper cutter said. 

At the village of Deep Creek, the lockman, 
evidently the leading person of the place, was a 
handsome and intelligent man, referred to by every 
one as " Mr. Geary." A crowd of mingled white 
and black awaited our arrival on the canal bridge ; 
and when we landed, I was somewhat surprised to 
see '' Mr. Geary " and Mr. Moseley shake hands 
most w^armly, and proceed arm in arm like old 
friends. A lank white man offered me an expla- 
nation. ''Mr. Geary," he said, "is a high Mason. 
Them two are above me and you. I'm an Odd 
Fellow, I am ; but them fellows are higher'n me 
or you." 

Mr. Geary was a kindly man, "liigh Mason " or 
not. We found later on that he was widely known 
as a famous hunter, who probably knew the 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 375 

Dismal Swamp as well as any man living. He 
had shot over it all his life. He told us that the 
fishing at the lake was " wonderful." 

Moseley's canoe still leaking, we hired a team 
from " Mr." Johnson of Deep Creek, to carry the 
baggage to Capt. Wallace's house, and we started 
to paddle up the canal. 

It was a lovely evening, and the surroundings 
were so novel and so unexpectedly attractive, that 
we can never forget the impression. Far before 
us as the eye could reach, ran the canal, narrowing 
in perspective, till it closed to a fine point. On 
the right, rose from the water, a dense forest of 
cypress and juniper, flowering poplar, black gum, 
yellow pine, maple, and swamp oak, with a mar- 
vellous underwood of laurel in ravishing flower, 
the very air heavy with the rich perfume, which 
resembles that of a tuberose, honeysuckle heaped 
in delicious blossom, yellow jessamine, bay, myrtle, 
purple trumpet flowers of the poison oak-vine, 
with the ever-present roses, and white-flowering 
blackberry hanging into the water. 

As the evening darkened, with a clear sky 
overhead, and a red glow from the west, reaching 
over the trees, the effect was almost oppressively 
beautiful. No other tree darkens in evening sil- 
houette so impressively as the two queen trees of 



376 ETHICS OF BOXING AXD MANLY SPORT. 

the Dismal Swamp, the juniper and cypress. 
With the low sun behind them, the clear-cut deli- 
cacy of their foliage reminds one of the exquisite 
fineness of dried sea mosses on a tinted page. But 
when the sun has gone down, and the sky is still 
flushel with its glory, the cypress takes on a 
mystery of dark and refined beauty that is all its 
own. It rises still blacker than the dark under- 
wood, the tallest among the trees, lonely, like a 
plume. It is not heavy or hearse-like, but thin, 
fibrous, the twilight showing through its delicate 
branches, and tracing every exquisite needle of its 
leafage on the air. It seems to be blacker than 
the coming night ; blacker far in its fine filaments 
than the clustered laurel at its feet. The dark- 
ness and delicacy of the cypress are its genius. 
It does not oppress, it thrills. In the twilight it 
is the very plume of death, but of a death uncom- 
mon. A yew or a willow is a sign of mourning; 
but a cypress in the evening is a symbol of woe. 

But wdth the decline of the lovely day came 
such a jubilant chorus of sweet voices! Never 
have w^e heard, except in the air of dreamland, such 
a concert of delicious bird music. In number and 
variety the singers were multiplied beyond con- 
ception. Far a 3 we could see along the canal we 
knew that the air Avas vibrant with this harmony. 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWA^NIP. 377 







378 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOBT. 

The thought of such unbroken melody following 
the eye into the remote distance was a more de- 
lightful music in itself than that which w^as ravish- 
ing the senses. Here the mocking-bird ceased to 
mock, and poured out its own ecstatic soul. The 
catbird, discordant no longer, shot its clear joy 
through the great harmon}% and the wren and 
swamp canary twined their notes like threads of 
gossamer through the warp and woof of this mar- 
vellous tapestry of sound. 

I shall have to speak by and by of the noxious 
and horrible denizens of the swamp. Let me dwell 
lovingly and gratefully on the pleasure derived 
from those that were innocent and delightful. 

We let the evening fall on us unresistingly, to 
drink in the sweet thing that was around us. We 
were miles from our destination, but we could not 
settle to mere travelling till this incredible vesper 
song was done. We sat silent, absorbed, witness- 
ing ^'the deathbed of a day, how beautiful." 

The charm was broken by the happy hailing of 
two colored boys on the towpath, who were driv- 
ing "• Mister " Johnson's team with our baggage, 
and who had now overtaken us. Then came the 
thorn of our rose. Moseley's canoe was still leak- 
ing, and while he had been floating off with the 
divine mocking-bird, the water had gained on him 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 379 

like a temptation. In an instant the concert had 
vanished. The curtain of the commonplace fell 
over that finer tympanum that almost hears spirit- 
ual voices, and the canoe man was bailing his boat 
with a tin dipper, while he grumbled at fate. 

The dusky drivers waited on the towpath, and 
we soon started again, keeping up a lively conver- 
sation from boat to wagon. But the leak grew, 
the night was closing, and we were in a very 
strange land. 

'-'• Let us tie a rope to the cart and tow the boats," 
we cried, and the picture of riding indolently up 
the canal was like a charm. 

We fastened the canoes boAv and stern and tied 
thejongest painter, thirty or more feet in length, 
to the tailboard of the cart, and away we Avent. 
But before we had proceeded twenty feet the light 
rope, slackened by the rapidit}^ of the light and low 
boats, caught on a stump by the water side. The 
leading canoe felt the pull, and darted headlong to 
the bank, and had not the boys at once stopped the 
horse the canoes would have been pulled to pieces, 
or dragged clean up on the towpath. 

We tried again and again, with the same result, 
and then we felt ashamed of our superior knowl- 
edge of a few hours before, and interiorly begged 
the nasal lock-keeper's pardon. 



380 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

" H'ist de kunnues right out, boss," said one of 
the boys, a little fellow, exceedingly black, with 
strongly marked features ; '' and put 'em on de 
wagon." 

No sooner said than done. Moseley's boat had 
about one hundred pounds of water in her when 
we turned her over on the bank. The little black 
fellow (the other was a head taller and yellow) 
had a perfect genius for management. He directed 
the fastening and arrangement of the canoes ; he 
was almost too small to assist. He spoke such a 
hasty and softened dialect that we could hardly 
understand him, but he was one of the brainiest 
and readiest boys I have ever met, white or black. 

The conversation of the boys, as we jogged along, 
was very interesting. The yellow fellow was an 
indefinite character; he knew nothing certainly; 
the black fellow answered *' yes "or '^ no," like the 
working of a trap. 

'' What bird is that singing now? " 

"- 1 t'ink dat a swamp canary, boss," says the 
yellow youngster, with a doubtful glance at his 
companion, who remains silent, till we ask him, 
"• Is it a canary ? " 

"No, dat's a wren," and you feel sure that a 
wren it is. 

'' Whose farm is this on the left? " we ask, look- 



> 




CANOEING IK THE DISMAL SWAMP. 381 

ing over a most fertile and admirable farm several 
miles in extent. 

'^ I t'ink dat farm 'longs to ole man Douglass ? " 
says the yellow fellow, with a sound, as usual, like 
a note of interrogation at the end of his assertion. 

''Does it belong to Mr. Douglass?" we ask the 
black boy. 

"No, dat farm Muss Lindsey's," answered the 
firm little oracle. And the yellow boy never re- 
sented or questioned the black boy's knowledge, 
while the black boy never derided or corrected 
the yellow boy's ignorance. 

Lindsey's superb farm, stretching four miles 
along the canal and reaching eastward nearly five 
miles, is as level as a floor and wonderfully fertile. 
It was originally dismal swamp, most of it having 
been reclaimed within the last thirty years by its 
present owner, who is a first-rate farmer, judging 
from his estate. The canal at first ran right 
through the swamp, but now all the land to the 
east has been cleared. (See map, page 350.) 

One of the striking features of this superb Lind- 
sey farm was a row of enormous barns about three- 
quarters of a mile apart, and placed along its 
centre. Not another building was to be seen. 

Were this the time and place for such consider- 
ation, we might dwell on the landlord system evi- 



i 

382 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

denced by this large estate, with its many barns, 
but no dwelling-houses. This is the mistaken 
economical system of the South, and particularly 
of Virginia. The war has not destroyed the plan- 
tation system. The great southern farmers of to- 
day stand in about the same relation to their work- 
men and tenants as the owners formerly did to 
their slaves, but with less responsibility. The 
homes of the tenant farmers of Virginia and North 
Carolina, as we saw them, are a discredit to America. 
Sooner or later Virginia will have to face the 
necessity of establishing real and permanent small 
farm proprietorship. 

It is hardly fair to criticise the land ownership 
of such a farm as this, saved from the Dismal 
Swamp by the energy and intelligence of its pro- 
prietor. If any ownership be absolutely righteous 
it must surely be that of the farmer who not only 
cultivates, but has reclaimed his farm from the 
wilderness. 

Nothing could so convincingly demonstrate the 
inestimable advantage of reclaiming the Dismal 
Swamp as this and other wonderful farms along 
the canal, that a few years ago were wilderness, 
infested with reptiles and wild beasts. 

Before the light had quite gone from the tow- 
path, a rabbit, and then another and another, came 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 383 

out of the brushwood and played about quite near 
to the horses' heads. With the masculine instinct 
of destructiveness, a gun was loaded with evil in- 
tent, but wise little bunny had an instinct too, for 
he went out of the w^ay of the slaughter. 

But while the muzzle was regretting its lost 
roar, a fat partridge hopped out of the bush about 
fifty yards ahead. 

'' Look ! look ! " cries the yellow youth, stop- 
ping the horse. "• Dere's a cock shot, boss ! " 

The gun was raised and the little brown hen 
covered, when a quiet protest was heard from the 
black boy. 

" 'Tain't right to shoot, a bird in de mating 
season ! " 

But the remonstrance was late, the hammer fell, 
the explosion followed — and the partridge, by 
good luck, escaped across the canal. The enjoy- 
ment of the black boy was as evident as the dis- 
appointment of the yellow^ one. If anything were 
needed to make the sportsman ashamed of himself, 
it was the timid little "cluck-clucking" of the 
covey in the grass, alarmed for the welfare of the 
absent one. The tameness of the birds at this sea- 
son made the offence all the meaner ; and the double 
reproach of the black boy's eye and the frightened 
little family in the field had its full effect. 



384 ETHICS OF BOXIKG AKD MANLY SPORT. 

Soon after, through the gathering gloom, we 
saw the outline of a large house to the left of the 
canal, with outbuildings and white fences, and 
other large buildings on the right side of the canal. 
This was Wallaceton, where, at Captain Wallace's 
house, we received a most hospitable welcome. 
In a few minutes the canoes were cared for, many 
willing hands helping, and we Avere enjoying an 
excellent supper. After supper it was hard to 
realize, from our refined surroundings, and the 
gracious hospitality we were enjoying, that we 
were within the bounds of, and not very far from 
the very heart of the Dismal Swamp. Three gen- 
tlemen connected with the National Geological 
Survey, Mr. Atkinson, Mr. Towson, and Mr. Ken- 
nedy, were stopping at Captain Wallace's, and 
they told us much about the swamp region, which 
they were then surveying, and of which an ac- 
curate map is soon to be published. 

That night we could only see the interior of 
this charming home ; next morning we witnessed 
with astonishment the extraordinary wealth, fertil- 
ity, beauty, and wonderful cultivation of Captain 
Wallace's magnificent farm. Every acre of this 
land, both east and west of the canal, has been 
saved within forty years from the Dismal Swamp. 
Forty years ago the elder Mr. Wallace, a man of 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 385 

high intelligence and indomitable spirit, whose im- 
mense farm joins his son's, with his own hands cut 
down the first tree in the swamp, which marked 
the beginning of this estate. He and his son, 
Capt. John G. Wallace, have now, in the first order 
of cultivation, many thousand acres of land not 
inferior to the best on the continent. 

We were awakened in the morning by a chorus 
of bird song rivalling that of the evening before. 
On looking from our window we saw a field like a 
dream — 1100 level acres without a fence — in 
which it appeared that not one inch was left 
neglected or unproductive. The splendid area 
of fertility was marked in squares of varying 
color like a map; here the rich dark brown of 
ploughed loam ; there the green ridges of early 
potatoes and corn ; yonder a long stretch of clover, 
and so on until every foot of the fine field was 
filled with natural wealth. 

This field, called the Dover Farm, lies on the 
west side of the canal ; that is, it reaches into the 
very depths of the swamp for nearly a mile and a 
half. Its position is between the lake and the 
canal. 

How, then, if Lake Drummond and the canal 
be higher than the swamp, could this 1100 acres 
of land be drained? The answer has in it the 



386 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

demonstration of the iniquity and stupidity of 
the canal system. Captain Wallace ran a deep 
drain around this Dover Farm, bringing the end of 
it to the canal ; there he stopped, and waited until 
the canal was emptied some years ago, for the pur- 
pose of being cleansed from stumps and sand. 
The indefatigable farmer took advantage of the 
dry water-course and dug his culvert under the 
bed of the canal, bridging it securely. His drain 
was then several miles long, and he continued it 
until it emptied into the Northwest river, which 
runs out of the swamp. Last year the lake being 
swelled by heavy rains, the canal company did 
not, of course, open their locks and let the water 
escape ; instead, they adopted a lazier, easier, and 
more ruinous plan ; they raised the banks of the 
canal, one consequence of which was that the 
confined water percolated through the surround- 
ing land, forced itself under Mr. Wallace's drain, 
and inundated and destroyed several hundred 
acres of his cleared land. Of course, from such 
an injury he had no protection. 

The energy and intelligence of these two gen- 
tlemen, father and son, working with such sur- 
roundings, are remarkable. The elder Mr. Wallace, 
a man considerably over 70, spoke with almost 
enthusiastic earnestness of the work he had him- 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 387 

self done, and the greater work of general recla- 
mation which is possible in the Dismal Swamp. 

''A railroad," he said, '' instead of the canal, 
would open up and enrich this whole country. If 
the locks at both ends of the canal were opened, 
almost the entire land of the Dismal Swamp could 
be reclaimed. Or," he added, looking at the 
canal, which must have cost him manj^ a bitter 
thought, ''if this water were only lowered four 
or five feet the land all around here could be 
saved." 

After an early breakfast we started up the canal, 
intending to reach the Feeder early in the fore- 
noon, and, if possible, arrive at the lake about 
noon. Still the leaky canoe bothered us ; but 
while we were considering how to make her carry 
her load, a handsome young farmer, Mr. R. E. B. 
Stewart, courteously offered us his boat and man 
to take our baggage to the Feeder lock, near the 
lake. In a few minutes the boat started ahead 
of us. 

The canal above Wallaceton resembled the 
stretch from Deep Creek to that place, the only 
change being that the trees in the swamp become 
thicker and taller. The majority of the trees 
here appeared to be black gum, with an outer 
border of poplar, maple, and swamp-oak. 



388 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

The Feeder is a deep cutting, about 18 feet in 
width, running at right angles from the canal to the 
lake. It is four miles in length, with a lock about 
a quarter of a mile from the lake. 

The current in the Feeder runs strongly from 
the lake to the canal. The banks of the Feeder 
are thickly covered with canebrake, the bamboos 
of great height. On the right, going toward the 
lake however, the swamp is more open and has 
large timber. 

The condition of the Feeder was a shocking 
revelation. There was no raised bank here, as in 
the main canal. For miles of its length the water 
flowed freely over the banks into the swamp, 
creating a morass of dreadful appearance. No 
living thing could there find footing. Even birds 
were rarely seen, although we saw a few of beauti- 
ful plumage, one of which is known to the negroes 
of the swamp as the red bird. It resembled a 
flame in the brilliance of its coloring, as it passed 
through the shaded light of the swamp. 

In the Feeder we met several lighters, heavily 
piled with juniper logs, on their way from the lake 
to the sawmill. These lighters had each two men, 
colored, who poled them from the banks. At 
times, when the sides of the Feeder will permit, 
they walk on a line of logs laid along the mud 



CANOEING IN THE PISMAL SWAMP. 389 




390 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

bank, pushing the lighter with their poles resting 
against the breast. 

Our passage up the Feeder was against a strong 
current. It was a steady and monotonous paddle 
through dim light, the canebrake and the boughs 
reaching over our heads. The air had a dense 
warmth as though we were in a closed room. 
Outside on the canal, there was a strong breeze 
with a decided chill in it ; here, we were stifled as 
if in an oven. And yet, up to this time we had 
not seen a mosquito in the swamp; and as for 
snakes and other wild creatures, we had almost 
made up our minds that they were a tradition or a 
popular romance. 

" How far to the lake ? " we asked a magnificent 
fellow who was poling a timber skiff down the 
Feeder. He was a giant in black bronze, large- 
eyed, large-browed, large-motioned — a man born 
to be distinct among his fellows. He stopped his 
lighter by holding her against the canes, and he 
looked with an ample smile at the canoes. We 
had to repeat our question, when he started as if 
ashamed. 

''Beg yo' pahdon," he said, with a grace that be- 
came him; "I didn't hear yo', dem boats is so 
putty. It's 'bout a mile to de lake. What yo' call 
dem boats?" 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 391 

''Canoes." 

" Kunnues ! nebbah heahcl 'bout clem befoah." 

We remarked that he looked in good condition, 
and asked him was the swamp a wholesome place. 

''Yes," he said. He had worked on the lake for 
seven years. He had come there from South Car- 
olina, sick with chills, to be cured in the swamp. 

"Do people come here to be cured?" 

" Oh, yes, sah ! Dismal Swamp's de healthiest 
place in all de worl'. Dere's nothing like junipa 
watah to cu' de chills." 

" Do you like the swamp ? " 

" Yes, sah ! I like de swamp. I wouldn't wuk 
nowheres else. I could get moh wages by going 
out to wuk on de high land. I get twenty dollars 
a month heah ; could get thirty dollars out on de 
bank, but I like to wuk in de old Dismal best of 
any." 

This was free testimony, and we heard it repeated 
scores of times by "swampers " before we left the 
lake. Interesting in this respect and others was 
Ned Boat, a very old colored man, who has lived 
in the swamp altogether for seventy-four years. 
He has never been sick. He is now employed by 
Mr. Roper as a counter of logs and marker of time, 
and earns forty dollars a month. He says the 
swamp water will cure almost every disease. 



392 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

Another man, the blackest man we had ever seen, 
his skin being quite as black as ebony, had come 
from South Carolina five years ago, with chills and 
fever, had been cured by the juniper water, and 
had lived in the swamp ever since. White folk as 
well as black added their testimony as to the ex- 
traordinary salubrity of the swamp. 

The phrase '' Going out to the high land " is the 
usual expression of the '' swamper " for going to 
the exterior world. He speaks as if the swamp 
were in a hollow, instead of being higher than 
" the high land." He says, " I came in," and again, 
" I went out to the bank ; " a phrase that is 
impressively significant of his footing in the 
swamp. 

We said good-by to our colored Hercules, whose 
mighty arms were bare to the shoulder and his 
ragged shirt open to the w^aist. He had on a thick 
white cotton cap, without a visor, that looked like 
a wadded turban. It became him mightily. In 
front he had sewed a strip of red cloth, not across, 
but upright, and behind he had fastened the long 
bushy tail of a squirrel, that hung down his back. 
" I killed dat fellow last night," he laughingly said, 
seeing our eyes fixed on the ornament. 

No great tragedian on the stage ever dressed 
himself so becomingly as this black Ingomar. 



CAKOEING IK THE DISMAL SWAMP. 393 

There was no chance harmony here, it was nature's 
own decoration. He saw himself in no mirror, 
except the mirror of the canal. He knew how 
to dress better than any belle in Boston or New 
York. The wave of his large hand as he said 
" good-by " was as kindly and as eloquent as if he 
stood in a lion-skin cloak on the banks of the Niger, 
a chief among his own. 

We could not help thinking as we left him that 
this man at least was properlj^^ placed in the Dismal 
Swamp, where he was as free as were his fathers 
in Africa. Like scales from our eyes began to fall 
the impressions of " Dred," and all the other dis- 
mal stories we had read and heard about the 
Dismal Swamp. Every day of our stay on the 
lake this conviction grew upon us ; the slaves who 
escaped to the Dismal Swamp in the old time must 
have lived happily in their absolute freedom. The 
negro in the swamp is at home. He has helped to 
spread and exaggerate the terrors of the place to 
keep it more securely for himself. If I were a 
slave, in slave time, and could get to the Dismal 
Swamp, I should ask no pity from any one. 

But all this time we kept laboriously paddling 
against the strong current, for the lock ahead, only 
a quarter of a mile from the lake, was this day 
letting pass an unusual volume of water. Every 



394 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

stroke of the paddle now sent us deej)er and deeper 
into the heart of the swamp. Suddenly, Moseley, 
who was ahead, stopped paddling and peered 
through the matted underbrush. 

"What is it?" I asked. 

" A cow and a calf ! What can they be doing 
here in the middle of the swamp ? " 

There they were, sure enough ; a red and white 
pair. They heard our voices, stopped chewing, 
stared a moment, then turned and picked their 
way into the jungle. 

A few minutes later the lock came in sight, and 
we saw two men waving their hats. One was the 
man in Mr. Stewart's boat with our traps, and the 
other was " Abeham " (not Abraham), who was to 
be our guide, philosopher, and friend on the lake. 
Abeham had been sent from Suffolk to meet us by 
Mr. Rudolph A. King of Washington, a gentleman 
deeply interested in the Dismal Swamp, of whom 
I shall have more to say by and by. 

"What are that cow and calf doing in the 
swamp? " was our first question. 

" Wild cattle, sah," said Abeham. 

" Are there wild cattle in the swamp? " 

" Yes, hund'eds and hund'eds of wild cattle ; I 
saw lots of 'em dis mawnin'. Yo' ought to have 
shot dat calf ; we'll want him to-morrow." 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 395 

This lock at the very lip of the lake keeps the 
water back to another height of several feet, so 
that lock after lock, from first to last, had backed 
up the lake to the height of almost twenty-three 
feet above tide water. 

Never can we forget the view that met our eyes 
as we were raised to that last level, and looked 
along the canal to the lake. 

The lockhouse and the whole Feeder were com- 
pletely overhung with tall trees. So close was 
their interlacing over the canal that the view to 
the lake was like looking through the barrel of a 
gun. The air along the dark and narrow sheet 
was actually green from the light sifting through 
the foliage. We were in the shadow ; it was all 
shadow to the end, but the end of the view glittered 
like an immense diamond. 

A ball of glorious and unshaded brilliancy lay 
at the end of the Feeder. A '' talisman's glory " 
it was, set on the low water and framed in the 
dense cypress. 

" What is that? " we asked after a long look of 
bewildered pleasure. 

'^Dat's de openin' to de lake," said Abeham. 

We sat there for an hour. We ate our dinner 
and smoked a cigar ; and the wonder lessened as 
the strange glory grew. The radiance of the dia- 



396 ETHICS OF BOXING AKD MANLY SPORT. 

mond became subdued till it had taken the form 
of a perfect arch, with its perfect reflection in the 
Avater. 

We were looking along a dark, straight stream, 
shaded over like the low arch of a bridge, until the 
gun barrel simile was the most likelj^, and, at the 
end or muzzle, the vision was carried across three 
miles of open and smooth water flashing to the sun. 

Mr. Moseley photographed the scene. It was 
the first time, in all probability, that this picture, 
incomparable of its kind, had ever been taken by 
a camera, though Tom Moore surely must have 
sketched it when he stood at this same feeder lock 
eighty -five years ago. 

At the request of the good-natured colored boy 
from Wallaceton we photographed the lockhouse, 
including him. He asked, could he have the pic- 
ture, and Mr. Moseley promised to send him one. 

'' Send it," he said, with the importance of a 
serious child, as he named his many initials, '' to 
D. J. L. Griffin, care of Abeham." 

Then we started down the gun barrel toward the 
lovely bridge, the perfection of which remained 
unbroken to the last. Here was no effort of land- 
scape art, but the living hand of nature completing 
its own picture and putting all art as gently out 
of question as the mountain does the mole. 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 397 

A weirdly beautiful view opened on us as our 
canoes shot under the outer leaves of the Feeder's 
bridge, and we floated at last within the marvel- 
lous ring of the lake of the Dismal Swamp. 

Vividly came to our minds the picture in Moore's 
touching ballad. 

Here, we thought, is the very scene, water, wood, 
and sky, that the poet saw generations ago. These 
trees growing out of the dark flood ; this weeping 
moss hanging from the sad queenliness of the ele- 
gant cypress ; these '' deadly vines " with their 
purple trumpet flowers that poison the very water 
into which they pour their tears ; these " beds of 
reed " and '' tangled juniper " ; these white roots 
round the border of the lake, where glide and coil 
" the copper snake " and the fearful red-bellied 
moccasin. 

And here let the lapse of time be forgotten and 
the association be renewed. There is no age in 
art. The song of a true poet is as unrelated as the 
song of a bird or a brook. This is my excuse, if it 
be needed, for repeating here Moore's ballad of 
''The Lake of the Dismal Swamp," written at 
Norfolk, in Virginia, in 1803. 

" They tell of a young man who lost his mind 
on the death of the girl he loved, and who, sud- 
denly disappearing from his friends, was never 



398 ETHICS OF BOXIKG AND MANLY SPORT. 

afterward heard of. As he had frequently said in 
liis ravings that the girl was not dead, but gone to 
the Dismal Swamp, it was supposed he had w^an- 
dered into that dreadful wilderness and had died 
of hunger, or had been lost in some of its dreadful 
morasses." — Tradition, 

" They made her a grave too cold and damp 

For a soul so warm and true, 
And she's gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp, 
Where all night long, by her fire-fly lamp, 

She paddles her white canoe. 

Her fire-fly lamp I soon shall see. 

And her paddle I soon shall hear ; 
Long and loving our life shall be, 
And 111 hide the maid in a cypress tree 

When the footstep of death is near.-' 

Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds, 

His path was rugged and sore, 
Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds, 
Through many a fen where the serpent feeds, 

And man never trod before. 

And when on the earth he sank to sleep, 

If slumber his eyelids knew. 
He lay where the deadly vine doth weep 
Its venomous tear and nightly steep 

The flesh with blistering dew ! 

And near him the she-wolf stirred the brake. 
And the copper-snake breathed in his ear. 

Till he stirring cried, from his dream awake, 

** Oh, when shall I see the dusky lake, 
And the white canoe of my dear ? " 



CANOEIKG IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 399 

He saw the lake, and a meteor bright 

Quick over its surface played — 
** Welcome ! " he said, ** my dear one's light ! " 
And the dim shore echoed for many a night 

The name of the death-cold maid. 

Till he hollowed a boat of the birchen bark, 

Which carried him off from shore ; 
Far, far he followed the meteor spark, 
The wind was high, and the clouds were dark, 

And the boat returned no more. 

But oft, from tlie Indian hunter's camp. 

This lover and maid so true 
Are seen at the hour of midnight damp. 
To cross the lake by a fire-fly lamp, 

And paddle their white canoe. 

How wonderful was the truth of the poet's 
vision I A century is as a day, leaving the picture 
unchanged. True in romance and reality, Moore's 
poem on the ''Lake of the Dismal Swamp " is as 
faithful in its natural history as in its melody. 

It may be interesting here to recall the incidents 
of the poet's visit to the lake in 1803. To one 
man in Norfolk is due special thanks for the con- 
stant attention which of late years has been given 
to this memorable visit. Mr. M. Glennan, editor 
of the Norfolk Virginian, has often agitated the 
reclaiming of the Dismal Swamp, making use of 



400 ETHICS OF BOXIKG AKD MANLY SPORT. 

Moore's ballad to keep the popular interest from 
flagging. Mr; Glennan writes me the following 
interesting account of Moore's two visits to Nor- 
folk:— 

" In 1803, Tom Moore received the appointment 
as registrar of the admiralty court at Bermuda ; 
and in September, 1803, he sailed from Ports- 
mouth, Eng., in a ship of war that was taking out 
Mr. Merrj^, minister to the United States. The 
ship arrived in Norfolk Nov. 7 following, and 
while Mr. Merry went to Washington, Moore 
remained in this city, the guest of Col. Hamilton, 
then the British consul, who resided at that time 
in the building now the residence of Mr. Copps, on 
Main Street, opposite Fenchurch. During his 
stay here Moore made many friends and delighted 
the young ladies of the borough by his skill upon 
the harpsichord. While in Norfolk he wrote the 
famous ballad ' The Lake of the Dismal Swamp.' 
In December he started for his destination in 
Bermuda, on the man-of-war Driver. He was 
disappointed in his anticipations as to the Ber- 
mudas, and after he had been there about three 
weeks he wrote to his parents that 4ie was coming 
home.' He accordingly appointed a deputy, and 
in the spring he took advantage of the sailing of 
the frigate Boston^ to come to New York, where 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. . 401 

he shortly arrived. He remained in New York 
but a short time, when he again made up his 
mind to visit Norfolk, arriving here with Capt. 
Douglass. During his second stay in Norfolk, it 
is believed that Moore was the guest of Mr. 
William Plume, who resided where the Hospital 
of St. Vincent de Paul now stands. Mr. Plume 
was a native of Ireland, whose real name was 
Moran. He had taken a very active part in the 
rebellion of 1798 in Ireland against the English 
rule, and with Commodore Barry, Hhe father of 
the American navy,' and other kindred spirits, 
had to flee the land. He settled in Williamsburg, 
Va., but afterward removed to Norfolk, married a 
Mis3 Elizabeth Hazzard of Princess Anne county, 
Va. For some reason, presumed to be the fear of 
persecution by the English government, he never 
revealed that he was the Irish rebel Moran until 
the time of his death. He was greatly respected 
and the soul of society, Avhose house was always 
open. His descendants of to-day are the Morans, 
Barrys, and Kings of the city of Norfolk." 

When Moore visited the Lake of the Dismal 
Swamp, no doubt with the purpose of putting into 
ballad form the legend he had discovered in Nor- 
folk, he naturally went alone in the " dugout " of 
a negro boatman, so that he might not be dis- 



402 ETHICS OF BOXING AKD MANLY SPOKT. 

turbed. He passed up the canal, came through 
the Feeder and entered the lake, just as we did, 
beneath the living arch of cypress. " He wrote all 
the time he was in my boat," says the man who 
brought him to the lake. This negro boatman, 
called ''Uncle Tony," was a well-known character. 
From his own lips the story of the poet's visit has 
been written down by Mr. Robert Arnold of Suf- 
folk, Va. Here is Uncle Tony's story : — 

" I shall never forgit dat time. One mornin' I 
war gittin' my skiff reddy to go to de lake, a 
mighty nice-lookin' man cum up to me an' sed : 
' Ar you de man dat will carry me to de Lake ob 
de Dismal Swamp for Avhich I will pay you XI ? ' 
De gentman talked so putty dat I tole him to git 
in my skiff an' I wood carry him. to de lake. I 
notice dat he kep writin' all de way. When I got 
to de horse camps (a large encampment of negro 
wood-cutters), I stopped to git somefin' to eat. He 
cum outen de skiff an' ax me what I stop for. I 
tole him I stop to eat some meat an' bread. He 
ax me if I would have a drink. I tuk off my hat 
an' tole him dat I would be much obleeged to him 
for it. He fotched a silber jug, wid a silber cup 
for a stopper, an' sed: 'My man, dis is Irish 
whiskey, brung it all de way from home.' He tole 
me dat his name was Thomas Moore, and dat he 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 403 

cum fom 'way ober j^onder, an' was gwine to de 
lake to write 'bout a spirit dat is seed dar paddlin' 
a kunnue. De liar 'gin tu rise on my lied, an' I 
ax him ef dat wus a fac'. He sed dat he wus tole 
so in Norfolk. I shal nebber forgit dat gentman. 
I fotch him back, an' he gin me de poun' which 
war five dollars, an' he lef ' for Norfolk, bein' mitey 
glad dat I had carried him to de lake. He tole nie 
dat he had trabbled an' seen sites, but dat he 
nebber wus so 'stonish befo' ; he did not 'spec' to 
see at de end ob de kunel sich a putty place, an' 
dat I wood hear some time what he was gwine tu 
say 'bout it." 

Our camp lay on the northwest corner of the 
lake, three miles from the Feeder's mouth. At 
the start we struck out to the middle of the lake 
before turning north, so that we took in at first 
glance the whole wonderful view. For myself, I 
longed to lay down my paddle and sit there 
motionless until the sun sank and the moon rose, 
for a dream and fascination that had drawn me 
from childhood was now fulfilled and completed. 
Only the lake of mj^ fancy was much smaller and 
gloomier than the true lake. 

There is no other sheet of water like this any- 
where. No other so far removed from the turbu- 
lence of life, so defamed, while so beautiful. It 



404 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

fills one with pity and wonder — the utter silence 
and loneliness of it. It is a dead sea, but neither 
bitter nor barren. 

I could not help the feeling, that increased as 
time passed, that this pure eye of water, ringed by 
one distinct line of dark trees, no farther horizon 
visible, was not on a plain, but on a high moun- 
tain. Later on, as we sailed around the borders of 
the lake, another delusive thought persisted in 
coming. It always seemed that the wooded shore 
rose abruptly thirty yards or so back from the 
water, and that I verily could see the uplifting of 
the trees and underbrush. Probably because it 
was unnatural that the shore should be just as Ioav 
or lower than the water surface, the senses refused 
to accept it as true. 

The first deep impression made on me by the 
lake was its size. I had expected to see a sheet 
not a tenth part as large, and gloomy with the 
shadows of its tall, overhanging trees. Instead, 
from the centre the trees were a low, dark border 
on the far horizon. 

From the centre, the lake is the very ideal of 
loneliness and stillness, strangely emphasized by 
the solitary wide-winged hawk, tipping on his high 
circle. No smaller bird can be seen at this dis- 
tance in the trees on the shore — though birds are 
there, and in rich variety. 



CANOEING IX THE DISMAL SWAMP. 405 



% , 



o 

M 

> 
o 

w 

M 







406 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

Here, for instance, are some of the birds we 
noted in a few days, many of them in great num- 
bers : the catbird, robin, swamp canarv^ wren, 
sparrow, mocking-bird, whip-poor-will, red bird (a 
blaze of plumage), thrush (with a crown), yellow- 
hammer, woodpecker, owl (immense fellows), 
hawk, eagle, kingfisher, jay, heron, quail, wdld 
turkey, woodcock, buzzard, crow, and numerous 
brilliant little birds of many species, whose names 
we did not know. In the winter the lake is fairly 
covered with geese, swans, and all kinds of duck. 
The bat, which I believe is not a bird, is at home 
here. 

But crossing the lake that first day we saw only 
one bird, a hawk of great size. The water of the 
lake was deliciously cool in the centre, where the 
average depth is about fifteen feet. Again and 
again we drank the sweet draught. Looking into 
it, no mirror could be more perfect in reflection. 
The flash of the paddles was brown, not cry^stal. 
On a day when the water broke (and we crossed 
the lake one day before the rush of a gale), the 
brown brandy-light through the lifting waves and 
the warm ruddiness of the breakers were singu- 
larly beautiful. 

The lake is full of fish of many and excellent 
kinds, though it has never been fished in the 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 407 

deeper water. The " swampers," who live on the 
borders, never fish beyond the Ime of stumps, 
which are at farthest a hundred yards from the 
shore, so that the fish of the lake are not at all 
completely known. The garfish, because he jumps, 
has been seen sometimes eight feet long, but no 
other fish is seen in the deep water. You cannot 
see one inch into the lake ; it is like looking into a 
bowl of ink. This makes it dangerous for light 
boating, for the snags are numerous, and though 
they may not be a nail's breadth under water, they 
are quite invisible. 

The fish in the lake, great quantities of which 
we caught, and on which, indeed, we chiefly lived, 
are the speckled perch or " Frenchman," a delicious 
fish, the raccoon perch, chub (a black bass), yellow 
perch (small), flyer, garfish, catfish (very numer^ 
ous), gaper, blackfish (thirty inches long), roach 
and eel. There are plenty of pike in the canals. 

The following story has been told me about the 
strange disappearance of a fish from the lake: 
" There was a very numerous fish known there as 
the brown perch, which was esteemed as the finest 
of all fresh-water fish. One year, about 1866 or 
1867, they disappeared and never have been caught 
since. It was the year of the great swamp fire, 
which lasted through a continuous drought of more 



408 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

than two months. It is supposed that the strong 
alkali imparted to the water from the timber and 
other vegetable ashes destroyed this fish, for soon 
after the rainy season had set in, immense quanti- 
ties were found floating dead on the edges and 
surface of the lake." 

In the town of Suffolk, on the northwest border 
of the Dismal Swamp, Mr. Rudolph A. King of 
Washington has a large property, which has led 
him to consider the advantages of the swamp 
region as a game preserve. He has started a pro- 
ject of getting five thousand men to form a game 
club, paying about ten dollars each a year, and 
lease the whole Dismal Swamp. He writes to me 
as follows : — 

''It is within the reach of men of moderate 
means, by combination in sufficient number, at 
trifling expenditure, so small as scarcely to be felt, 
to secure ownership, maintain and extend to a 
magnitude never attempted on this continent, with 
large enough area and attractions for thousands, 
' The Pioneer Shooting Park, Game Preserve, and 
Health Resort of America,' exclusively for busi- 
ness men, to provide shooting, fishing, and outdoor 
recreative attractions similar to the English and 
European style, for those seeking health or pleas- 
ure in pursuit of game or fish, canoeing, yachting, 




CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 409 

or kindred diversions, such as are becoming more 
necessary every year. By these means we could 
attain more practical results in protection of forest 
game, fish, and other natural luxuries of this 
country, for the benefit of those concerned, than 
legislation has been able to reach." 

One has only to listen to Mr. King to be con- 
verted to his project, which is certainly one of the 
straws in the wind that have a significance for the 
future of this region. 

The lake itself was discovered in 1775, by a 
Scotchman named Drummond, after whom it was 
named. He had followed a deer so far into the 
swamp, which Avas then regarded as impassable, 
that he lost his way. He wandered through the 
dreadful aimless avenues of the morass for three 
days and nights, afraid to lie down and sleep on 
account of the serpents and panthers. He had 
almost abandoned hope on the third day, and, the 
story goes, was meditating self-destruction to 
escape the horrors of a lingering death in the 
swamp, when he parted the canebrake before him 
and found himself on the verge of the wonderful 
lake. He had discovered the jewel hidden in the 
heart of the swamp ! The poor fellow thought at 
first he was crazy ; that this was the wild vision 
of delirium, till he had waded into the dark water 



410 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

and drank of it. Then, hope and strength returned. 
He took his bearings by the sun and succeeded in 
reaching his home that night, with the almost in- 
conceivable tidings of a great lake in the centre of 
the Dismal Swamp. 

George Washington, in 1763, in his twenty-first 
year, made a complete survey of the Dismal 
Swamp, with profound results. Throughout his 
life the secrets of nature he had there discovered 
were never forgotten ; and years afterward, when 
the Revolutionary War was over, and he was " the 
father of his country," he purchased the swamp, 
and organized the Dismal Swamp Land Company, 
which still exists and continues its ownership. 

Washington's original design was not the mere 
cutting of timber, but the entire reclamation of the 
swamp. He had perceived the immediate possibility 
of bringing almost its entire area into cultivation. 
His great project failed in this its first purpose ; 
not because it was impracticable, but because the 
company found that the timber-cutting alone 
yielded an unexpected and almost incredible reve- 
nue. The reclamation of the land was gradually 
given up, and as it was found that by holding and 
raising the water the timber could be more easily 
taken out, the locks began their work of still fur- 
ther drowning the whole district. Then came the 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 411 

commercial canal, with power over all the water 
in the swamp, and devoid of intelligence and pub- 
lic spirit, and the land of the Dismal Swamp was 
doomed. 

Washington himself surveyed the swamp for 
the route of his canals. His first cutting, running 
from the northwest corner of the lake in a westerly- 
direction, ended at what is called the Reed Farm, 
on the Edenton road, seven miles from Suffolk. 
It is still called ''Washington's Ditch." It has 
for many years been abandoned as a means of 
travel, a more direct route — the Jericho Canal — 
having been made at a later date. The Jericho 
Canal leaves the lake at the same lock as " Wash- 
ington's Ditch," and ends within two miles of 
Suffolk, running into the Nansemond river. 

I paddled up both these canals from the lake, 
and more oppressive surroundings it is hard to 
conceive. The Jericho Canal is ten miles long and 
eighteen feet wide, but the encroaching bamboo 
jungle reduces this width by over two feet on each 
side. The dense canes rise at least fifteen feet 
high on both banks, so that it is like canoeing in 
an unroofed sewer. To enliven the passage, the 
moccasins, on sunny days, climb to the tops of the 
bamboo canes, and are seen constantly dropping 
into the water. It is a common thing to have them 



412 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

drop into the open dugout of the "swamper," out 
of which they wriggle without delay. But the 
thought of a five-foot venomous snake dropping 
into a fourteen-foot canoe, with decks forward and 
aft, under which he would be sure to dart, and out 
of which there was no escape except by returning 
to the centre of the boat, was a dismal imagining. 
To make sure of no such visitor, I kept firing now 
and then into the canes ahead. 

The water in the Jericho Canal runs into the 
lake ; but at one-third its length the stream turns 
and runs the other way, emptying into the Nanse- 
mond river. 

This line where the watershed divides is un- 
questionably the highest portion of the swamp. It 
has not been surveyed; but calculating the rise 
from the Feeder to the northwest corner of the 
lake to be two feet, and three feet for the old lock 
at the opening of the Jericho Canal, I predict that 
the extreme height of the swamp will be from 
twenty-eight to thirty feet above tide water. 

The condition of the wholly abandoned " Wash- 
ington's Ditch " is even more forbidding than that 
of the Jericho Canal. The heavy trees are crowd- 
ing its banks and leaning into it ; the bamboos 
meet across it for long distances. It is, I think, the 
most sombre and evil-looking waterway on the 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 413 

earth, and yet no foot of it but is beautiful. The 
water moves slowly toward the lake (any move- 
ment is a relief in the gloom and silence, for even 
the birds have deserted the place), but after a 
short distance, as in the Jericho Canal, the floAV 
changes and goes outward, 

Washington had undoubtedly discovered the 
deepest secret of the Dismal Swamp, and appre- 
ciated its importance. He had read, most probably, 
the only description of the swamp in existence in his 
time, in a manuscript journal kept by Col. William 
Byrd of Westover (on the borders of the swamp), 
a man of great intelligence, who had surveyed the 
Dismal Swamp in 1725, at the request of the 
Governor of Virginia. Col. Byrd's manuscript is 
to be seen in the National Library at Washington. 
After his survey, he reported to the Governor of 
Virginia that the Dismal Swamp could be drained 
and reclaimed, and a petition was sent to George 
III., asking that a company be formed for that 
purpose, the company agreeing in advance to bear 
all the expenses, to pay themselves by the owner- 
ship of the reclaimed land, which was to remain 
untaxed for fifty years ; and they bound them- 
selves also to complete the work in ten years. 

One hundred and sixty-seven years have passed 
since then. King George's answer has not yet 



41-i ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

been received in Virginia, and the Dismal Swamp 
remains undrained and abandoned. Surely this is 
one of the most remarkable facts of modern times. 

Colonel Byrd, in his journal, describes the 
dreadful dangers of his exploring expedition into 
the Dismal Swamp. '^ We hoped to gain immortal 
reputation," he says, " by being the first of man- 
kind that ventured through the Dismal Swamp." 
He started on his exploring expedition in March. 
He could not have selected a more unfavorable 
month, for the swamp was then drowned with the 
winter rain almost as completelj^ as it is in the 
same month in our own times. The lake is five 
feet lower in September than in March. No won- 
der that after a week's attempt he had only suc- 
ceeded in entering to a distance of three miles. 
His party could find no solid ground to rest on at 
night, and their fires went out on the soggy earth. 

Colonel Byrd says he succeeded at length in 
reaching the North Carolina side of the swamp, 
and of course he is to be believed. But he must 
have skirted the eastern border all the way, for he 
missed the lake, which was not discovered until 
another quarter of a century had passed. 

Colonel Byrd based his favorable report to the 
governor, no doubt, on the fact, apparent then as 
now, that the swamp lay between three tidal 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 415 

rivers, the Elizabeth, the Nansemond, and Pasquo- 
tank, and was liigh above them. 

It needed no wizard to see that such a swamp 
could be drained. 

Washington, in 1763, in his own words, entered 
the Dismal Swamp, and '' encompassed the whole." 
He camped on the east side of the lake, and un- 
questionably considered the problem of its forma- 
tion, for he was astonished, and he astonished 
others by declaring that all the rivers in the swamp 
flowed out of it instead of into it. 

"The Dismal Swamp," wrote Washington, "is 
neither a hollow nor a plain, but a hillside." He 
had discovered, what measurement has since 
shown, that the lake was 23 feet higher than the 
sea I 

Scientists have accounted for the water in the 
Dismal Swamp, from cursory observations, hy 
the rainfall, even denying the existence of springs 
in the lake. I venture, with much hesitation, to 
disagree with this conclusion, believing it to be 
impossible that the rainfall can account for the 
enormous supply of water, not only contained 
within the swamp, but which is, and always has 
been, flowing out of it. 

First, it is granted that no more rain falls on 
the Dismal Swamp than on any other piece of 



416 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MAKLY SPOUT. 

Virginia 40x30 miles square. Second, it is certain 
that it does not draw from the surrounding coun- 
try, for it is higher than all its environment. 

Yet, out of the Dismal Swamp run no less than 
nine rivers, some of them very considerable, and 
still the lake continues to overfloAv, and the whole 
vast extent of the swamp remains inundated. 

These are the rivers that, if traced to their 
source, will be found to take their rise in the Dis- 
mal Swamp : the south branch of the Elizabeth, 
the west branch of the Elizabeth, south branch of 
the Nansemond, the Deep Creek, the North River, 
the Northwest River, the Little River, the Per- 
quimans, and the Pasquotank. 

Granting that the dense foliage of the Dismal 
Swamp lessens evaporation, there is still nothing 
like a proportion between the rainfall and the 
water that remains in and flows out of this dis- 
trict. 

There is no field in America more deserving of 
scientific investigation than the Dismal Swamp. 
"The first thing" is not known about it — how it 
was formed. Fortunately the attention of the 
National Geological Survey has now been turned 
in this direction. A survey of the entire district 
has been ordered and begun. Within a year, it is 
hoped, a perfect map of the Dismal Swamp, show- 



CANOEING IN THK DISMAL {SWAMP. 417 




418 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

ing its surface, with the accuracy of five-feet con- 
tours, will be published. 

'' The bed of the lake was formed by a fire that 
burned the trees and the peaty earth, making a 
hollow where the water lodged," says ''general 
opinion." 

But then it must have been a swamp before the 
fire, or there would have been no peaty earth to 
burn, and the rivers must have been flowing out 
of it as they do to-day. The fire could not make 
the rivers, even if it did make the lake ; and if it 
were originally a swamp, the fire could not burn 
deep enough to form the present bed of the lake, 
which is from 7 to 15 feet in depth. The fires 
still yearly occurring never burn below two feet, 
for at that depth is the percolating water, and it 
must have been there always. 

The bottom of the lake is composed almost 
wholly of fine white sand, and the temperature 
varies greatly in parts. In our long rubber boots 
we waded in the shallow water near the shore in 
several places, and found this fine sand bottom. 

Prof. N. B. Webster, in an interesting article on 
certain physical features of the swamp, says, — 

" The vast swamp appears to be retained above 
the level of the adjacent land in a way similar to 
the peat mosses of Solway and Sligo, until they 



CANOEING IN THE DISMxVL SWAMP. 419 

burst and overwhelmed the neighboring country. 
What known force but that combination of molec- 
ular force known as capillarity can supply and 
sustain the waters of the lake and swamp above 
described?" 

It is hard to answer as to the supply, but it is 
obvious that the force that sustains the lake at its 
present height is not molecular, unless a lock be a 
molecule. " The outlets at the canal locks," said 
old Mr. Wallace, ''are inadequate to let out the 
overflow, and it has to flood the land." He was 
speaking of the pane-like openings in the locks to 
lower the water. 

But suppose the locks were opened altogether, 
and left open, what would be the result ? 

The middle level of the Dismal Swamp Canal 
is, or is supposed to be, eight feet deep. If the 
middle locks were opened, the lake would be 
lowered eight feet, and the whole swamp west of 
the lake would drain into it, while that portion to 
the east would drain into the canal. 

If there be a doubt of the consequence, look at 
some of the wonderful farm lands lying east of 
the canal from Deep Creek to South Mills. Miles 
and miles of fertility almost incomparable on the 
surface of the earth. Half a century ago every 
foot of this land was Dismal Swamp, forsaken 
morass, full of reptiles and wild animals. 



420 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

" There is some peaty land in the swamp," said 
Mr. Wallace, " and I don't know that it could be 
reduced to cultivation ; but there are hundreds of 
miles of land as good as this I have reclaimed." 

"Would the land burn if it were drained, as 
some people say? " I asked Captain Wallace, whose 
reclaimed land runs within a few miles of the 
lake. 

"No," he answered, smiling at the question; 
" why doesn't our Dover Farm (which lies west of 
the canal) burn if that be true ? The whole sur- 
face of the swamp becomes dry enough to burn in 
the summer months; but it does not burn; at 
least it burns no more than any other closely tim- 
bered country." 

Another objection offered is that the drainage 
of the swamp would produce malaria. 

Shame on the pretence ! The people who are 
responsible for the swamp have not been able to 
make it malarial in a hundred years of treatment 
inductive to malaria. They have drowned it, and 
rotted it, and cut away its purifying juniper wood, 
and still it remains the healthiest portion of the 
State of Virginia, if not of the United States. 

If I were sick to-morrow of malaria contracted 
on some New England river, I should go at once 
to the Dismal Swamp to be cured. Depend on it, 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 421 

the tree that can kill malaria in snch a morass can 
drive it out of the human blood. ' 

What reason is there to believe that malaria 
would follow if a remedial and sanative, rather 
than a destructive and mephitic course were 
adopted ? 

But who are " they " who thus have the doing 
or undoing of the swamp in their hands ? 

" They " are the people who devised the policy 
of the Dismal Swamp Canal and the Land Com- 
pany or Timber Company, and all who support 
their past and present management. " They," too, 
are the farmers of the swamp district who do not 
agitate for the removal of the obstructions to their 
prosperity offered by those persons or corporations. 
" They," too, are the whole people of Virginia and 
North Carolina who tolerate in their States an evil 
that the early eighteenth century resolved to re- 
move, and that is a double discredit to the nine- 
teenth century. 

The Dismal Swamp Canal was chartered in 
1787 as a public highway, to be forever free from 
taxes on condition that it served certain important 
purposes, one of which was that ''as the said 
canals, the main canal and feeder, may^be of great 
utility in affording the means of draining the 
sunken lands through which tliey pass « , . it 



422 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

shall be lawful for the proprietors of the said ad- 
jacent lands to open cross-ditches into the said 
canals." I copy from the charter. 

This condition has been outrageously abused by 
the corporation. Instead of kee23ing the canal as 
a means of draining the adjacent lands, the banks 
have been raised to store the water till the canal is 
much higher than the lands adjoining. If a farm- 
er on the west side wants to drain his land, he 
must adopt the heroic course of Captain Wallace 
and tunnel under the canal. ^ 

On this vital condition, which accounts largely 
for the immense sums of public money voted for 
the canal in Congress and the State Legislatures 
of Virginia and North Carolina, the Canal Com- 
pany has long ago forfeited its charter. Instead 
of using the public money for the good of the 
farmers owning the swamp lands, it has used it to 
destroy those lands, with the view, probably, of 
eventually buying them at its own price. 

But they have overshot the mark, and have 
ruined their own property more hopelessly than 
they have injured the land. They have allowed 
another canal to be run almost parallel to theirs 
(the Chesapeake & Albemarle), which has diverted 
all their trade, and which bears large vessels and 
steamers. The new canal has a much longer 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 423 

course, with other disadvantages ; but it has beaten 
its old and pampered rival out of the field. Only 
one little steamer plies on the Dismal Swamp 
Canal, and even this must disappear as soon as a 
necessary railroad is run through the eastern 
swamp region. 

But let us return to our canoes and recall some 
of the pictures of the lake and swamp. 

^'Abeham," said Moseley, on our first afternoon 
at the lake, " put some bait in my boat ; I am 
going to fish till supper time." 

And he goes one way from the camp in his 
canoe with his rod and his gun, while I go another 
out on the lake. The camp is a rude frame house, 
with a few bed places or "bunks" in it, built on 
the edge of the lake by Captain Busby of Suffolk, 
probably to induce sportsmen and fishermen to 
visit the place. Instead of pitching our tent in a 
snake country, this safe and dry shelter is most 
gratefully accepted. Contrary to our expectations, 
the nights were quite cold, and I had reason to be 
thankful that I had brought with me a large raw 
silk blanket (one of those made by George S. 
Brown of Boston, whose excellent goods ought to 
be known to all who are fond of athletics and 
outing). 

Our camping ground had associations, too, that 



424 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

are worth mentioning. Over thirty years ago (in 
1855), an attempt was made by some enterprising 
men of Suffolk to open the beauties of the lake to 
the outer world. It was a worthy project, but it 
began at the wrong end ; the beginning ought to 
have opened the eyes of the outer world to the 
beauties of the lake. Colonel Hollidway and 
others of Suffolk built a large hotel here in the 
swamp, near where our camp stood. " There were 
accommodations for one hundred and fifty persons," 
we read in a Suffolk man's letter, '' and a band of 
music was kept continuously playing." Is this a 
true story ? we ask ourselves, standing on the very 
site, where not a vestige of hotel remains. To 
whom did the band play continuously ? If people 
wanted to hear a band why did they come here for 
it? What business had a band here, anyway? 
How did the guests reach the lake ? Through the 
Jericho Canal in a lighter, under the snake-fruited 
bamboo ? What a most singular vein of questions 
we open, thinking of this vanished hotel with its 
incomprehensible band, " playing continuously ! " 

" Where did this hotel stand ? " we ask Abeham. 

" Out dere in de lake, at dat black stump. Dat 
part of hotel. Dat's all dere's lef. Lake cover'd 
it all up." 

The stump was two hundred yards out in the 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 425 

lake. This bears out the words of Mr. R. A. King 
•that " the lake has widened on the west side, by 
washing of the waves, over two hundred yards 
since 1857." 

We left Abeham to cook a supper of fish which 
he had caught while waiting for us in the Feeder. 
Your southern darky is a natural fisherman. Like 
a thrifty housewife who takes out her knitting 
between-whiles, he will bait a hook and fish while 
he is " doin' nuffin'." And what a picture of con- 
tentment he is while fishing ! Look at Abeham, 
here, just waiting while we have gone up a " gum 
road," —for we tried faithfully to explore all the 
avenues, wet and dry, leading into the swamp, on 
our way round the lake. 

The southern negro is the freest man in civiliza- 
tion, as he ought to be, for Heaven knows he has 
had enough of bondage. He is striking the balance 
now. He works just when he chooses, and he loafs 
when he chooses. He is not only politically, but 
socially, free. He has no ambitions, no pretensions, 
and hardly any responsibilities. He is the sugary 
element in the grinding sand of our civilization. 
Lazy ? Why shouldn't he be lazy if it seems best 
to him? Suppose he begins to dig and scrape and 
grow thrifty and hard and mean as progress and 
society make us ? Suppose he learns to sell with 



426 ETHICS OF BOXING AKD MANLY SPORT. 

light weights, and lend at usury, to live above his 
income, not because he wants to, but because Mrs. 
Cuffee in the next shanty gave a party, and 
Mrs. Abeham across the way has set up a mule 
carriage, and his wife and family must do as much 
as they ? Will he be a happier or a better man by 
this way of living than he is now with his old hat 
and his cheery smile and his pleasant manners and 
his little niggers singing and laughing with their 
mother in the humble but sufficient cabin ? 

Not he ; he is choosing the wiser and happier 
way. Let him go fishing while he may. He has 
a right to a holiday for at least two whole genera- 
tions. If the white folks grumble at their work 
left undone, let them go and do it themselves. 
They made him do it long enough. Now, let him 
work just when he likes, or not at all, if he likes. 

Keep on, Abeham, just as you are. Have a rest. 
Your clothes are good enough, and you can hunt 
for food any time. Civilization will catch you and 
tame you and dress you and educate 3^ou, and make 
you a provident, careworn, dependent, miserable, 
compromising, respectable element of society soon 
enough. 

But was that a signal Moseley made to me? 
Yes, a nervous, quick wave of the hand that says, 
'^ Come here ! Come here at once ! " 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 427 



ivN'^: 




428 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPO^T. 

I join him in a dozen strokes of the paddle. 
He is excited. 

" Quiet, now," he says, being most unquiet; ''do 
you see that tall gum tree on the very edge of the 
water a quarter of a mile away ? " 

" Yes." 

" An eagle, a bald-headed eagle, do you hear ? 
has just lighted in the top of that tree. We must 
have him. We will get as near as we can and 
start him up. If I miss him, you make sure of 
him." 

We proceeded quietly toward the tree. Abeham, 
watching us, and scenting sport, had joined us. 
When within a hundred yards of the tree we saw 
the great bird standing on a high bough, a tall, 
gaunt, black body, with white head and tail. The 
intervening branches made it a risky shot, but 
when we had got fairly within range Moseley fired, 
and down came the bird head-first, as if plunging 
into the lake. 

There was a fallen tree growing beneath, and he 
was caught in its branches about ten feet from the 
water. He hung heavily, his great curved yellow 
beak on his breast, his eyes closed, and his enor- 
mous talons extended helplessly. He seemed to 
be quite dead. 

" Get him down, Abeham," said Moseley. 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 429 

Abeham pushed his boat under the branches and 
stood up, reaching his hand toward the bird. 
Next moment he shrank back in open-mouthed 
terror, with his eyes fixed on the eagle, and actually 
fell into the seat at the end of his punt. 

What a change had come over the wounded 
creature I The dying king had arisen in his har- 
ness. He had rallied for a last stroke as his ene- 
mies closed upon him. The head that was droop- 
ing a moment ago was raised with infinite pride 
and defiance, and the neck stiffened with wrath. 
The eyes glared with piercing anger at the foe that 
dared to touch him ; the massive yellow legs were 
drawn up to strike, and the talons opened and shut 
with ferocious passion. 

This was the dread vision that had terrified 
Abeham, and no wonder. The bird at that 
moment could have torn him limb from limb. 

But it was only a flash, only the agonized effort 
of despair and death. Next moment a gray film 
spread over the fierce eye, the yellow beak dropped 
on the breast, and the legs reached downward piti- 
fully and found no footing. Then, once more mak- 
ing us start in our boats, he rallied with raised head, 
gave a wild look around, and with a desperate 
struggle raised himself from the branches, and 
dashed toward the low bank twenty feet away. 



430 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

He alighted on the ground, and stood there with 
his head lowered and pushed into a dark angle of 
the bank, with his back to his enemies. 

There could hardly be a doubt that it was a de- 
liberate preparation for death, not an effort to 
escape. He had seen his enemies close beside 
him, and he knew he was in full sight. A proud 
savage, badly wounded, in the power of merciless 
foes, would have done precisely what this eagle 
did. 

Next moment another gun flamed, and he fell 
backward^ dead. He was a noble specimen of the 
bald-headed eagle — the national bird. This is the 
strong-winged one that, Audubon says, " can 
ascend until it disappears from view without any 
apparent motion of the wings or tail, and from 
the greatest height descends with a rapidity which 
cannot be followed by the eye." 

** The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls ; 
He watches from his mountain walls, 
And like a thunderbolt he falls." 

Who said that the bald eagle was a coward? 
Audubon, I am sorry to see, believes the aspersion. 
Benjamin Franklin regretted that the bird was 
taken as the national emblem, because it was said 
to be mean, ungenerous, pusillanimous ; that he 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 431 

would not fight a dunghill cock in the same cage. 
No, perhaps he cannot fight in a cage ; such a bird 
as this was not built to fight in a cage. But who- 
ever thinks the bald eagle a coward had better see 
one die. At the last moment of life, at least, no 
nation need ever seek for mightier dignity or cour- 
age than his. Woe be to that power that ever 
meets the look of a nation preparing for the death- 
grip as we beheld that of this majestic bird. 

He was awfully solemn and stern, even as he lay 
dead in the canoe. I never saw a head, human or 
animal, with such tremendous lines. The long, 
curved bone of the skull over the deep-set eye 
''gave an expression of profound suffering and 
power. In one view he seemed to be veiy old and 
gray, and reminded one of the loneliness and king- 
liness of Lear; but the general suggestion, not of 
the beak, but of the side brow and sunken eye, 
was of the head of Daniel Webster. 

We hung him on a stump till morning, till we 
could send him by canal to Suffolk to have his 
skin preserved. He was, as all great birds and 
beasts are said to be, covered with foul parasites, 
that must have made his life a torment, and that 
probably deepened the patient and enduring lines 
of his head. These vile things hurried from the 
dead king they had feasted on while his blood was 



432 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT, 

warm ; and in the morning, when we took his body 
away, we saw them clinging hopefully to the sun- 
warmed stump. '' Long live the king I " one 
fancies their sycophantic word, as they kissed the 
senseless edges of the heated bark. For three 
whole days some of them hung to the place, 
through dew and rain, till a drenching night 
washed them into perdition. 

So it is always when a great man dies. He 
must have his parasites in life, and it is a cold 
world for the vermin when he is gone. 

What more about the swamp? Snakes? I wish 
I could close without saying a word defamatory of 
the poor, maltreated swamp. But one thing is 
true : it is no more to be blamed for its vermin 
than the eagle. In fair hands the swamp would 
purify itself and be as wholesome in its life as in 
its air and water. 

''Pity 'tis, 'tis true." We have told of the 
birds and flowers and other lovely features of this 
strange region. Now we must go down into the 
recesses of its sins and let them see the day. 

Booted to the thigh, armed with knife and gun, 
is the only safe way to enter the canebrake, or, 
indeed, to depart in any way from the open spaces 
of the swamp. During our exploring we did not 
see bear or panther or wildcat ; but whoever leaves 



|A^ 









»iiM 







.^^^v ^ 






f:.-.>^ 



m^; 






CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 433 

the beaten ways of the swamp must be prepared 
to meet these inhabitants. 

For three days, with a cool wind and nightly 
rain, with the exception of one large king-snake 
which we killed on a ''gum road," we had seen 
nothing more noxious than a blue lizard with a 
red head, a harmless and friendly little fellow who 
seems to have no fear of man, for he will go on 
eating his invisible food and glancing up in your 
face in a most amusing and taking way. But the 
shape of the creature is against it, and the color 
of his ^head, which is exactly the hue of the moc- 
casin's belly. When Moseley woke up from a 
doze one wet afternoon, and found one of these 
lizards (the negroes call them scorpions) on his 
pillow, still eating invisible food and smacking his 
lips with a friendly glance, it was well the reptile 
didn't understand American, or he might have 
been offended. 

Our first snake was killed in this way : On our 
second day, while passing up a " gum road," we 
came upon a large dark-skinned snake lazily coiled 
on a sunny log. Having killed him by striking 
him with a heavy cane, we were afterward told by 
Abeham that it was a harmless king-snake, and 
that, moreover, it spent its time destroying the 
poisonous snakes in the swamp, which it does by 
crushing them. 



434 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT, 

On the morning of the fourth day — and what 
a day that was, with a copper cover on it, and a 
crater underneath — sweltering, we woke up, and 
both had the same thought — a swim. "Jim," a 
very interesting colored " boy " from a neighbor- 
ing " swampers' " camp, was outside, and he stared 
aghast at our preparations. 

'' No, no, don't do dat ! " he said earnestly. 

''Why not?" 

''Moccasins! " with a grave head-shake. 

We did not jump in; we contented ourselves 
with a bath in the boat. But we lauglied at 
" Jim," and sat down to breakfast in the open air. 
In a few minutes we stopped laughing. 

" What is that swimming out there ? " asked 
Moseley, pointing to a slight dark streak about 
twenty yards out in the lake. 

" A moccasin ! " cried Abeham, getting on his 
feet excitedly. Abeham was used to snakes, but 
terribly afraid of them. " Shoot him ! " 

We shot him; slight and short as he looked 
swimming, he was four feet seven inches in length. 
In a minute another — his mate probably — swam 
past and was killed, and was exactly the same 
length. 

The moccasin swims with its head and about 
fourteen inches of its back over the water. The 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 435 

head is very small for the thickness and length of 
the snake. It swims rapidly with a wavy motion. 
It is dark on the back, with a violently red belly, 
like inflamed scales, from the loose skin of the 
under jaw to the tail. Most of those we saw (and 
after that day we ceased to count them) were of an 
average length of about four and a half to five 
feet, thick as a man's arm, and repulsively fat. 
The prevailing suggestion of the creatures when 
you kill them is fatness. 

All the snakes of the Dismal Swamp are shy and 
timid. Very rarely do they bite, and then only 
when driven by fear. The largest snake in the 
swamp is the king-snake, which grows to be ten 
feet in length. The rattle-snake is fortunately 
rare in the swamp. It is mostly seen near the 
Feeder, and is the diamond or water rattle-snake, 
the largest and most sullenly ferocious of its dread 
family. It has a brown back, and a dirty yellowish 
belly. A ''swamper" said he had seen one this 
year that was eight feet long. 

The most dangerous snake in the swamp is one 
of the smallest, called the poplar snake. He is 
about twelve inches in length, green in color, like 
that of the poplar tree in which he lives. We 
escaped him most fortunately, for before we heard 
of him we had deflowered many poplars of their 



436 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

beautiful blossoms. This snake is a direful pest ; 
from his size and color he is not easily seen ; and 
his poison is said to resemble the rattle-snake's. 

The water moccasin is a venomous snake, and it 
is surprising, considering his countless presence in 
the swamp, that so few people are bitten. This 
reptile literally infests all quarters of the swamp. 
Other snakes, more or less numerous, are the black 
snake (sometimes nine feet long), the horned 
snake, and the jointed snake. Abeham and Jim 
said that they had often killed this latter question- 
able rei)tile, and that it had '^ broken into pieces 
about two and a half inches long." 

In case of snake bites the unvarying practice of 
the '' swampers " is to bind the limb above the 
wound tightly, twisting a stick in the ligature, 
then suck the wound thoroughly, and afterward 
drink copiously of whiskey. They say that this 
treatment invariably cures all bites in the swamp, 
excepting the rattler.'s. But we only met three or 
four persons who had known of actual snake bites. 

One quality of the moccasin is interesting and 
worthy of record, his curiosity. These snakes 
escape rapidly on the approach of a man, but will 
often return to the place they left to take a look 
at him. We had a singular instance of this in- 
quisitiveness. One day, on our Avay round the 



/ 



y: 




CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 437 

lake, we came to a deserted '' gum road," from 
which the workers had departed years ago. Mr. 
Moseley remained at the landing to take a photo- 
graph, and I went slowly up the "gum road," hop- 
ing to shoot some squirrels. About a hundred 
yards up the road I came to the rotten old log hut 
of the " swampers," and there on a heap of bare 
ashes that still remained in the midst of the grass, 
lay in loose coils a long, dark snake, which I 
thought, from his similarity of color to that we 
had killed some days before, was a king-snake. I 
resolved to let the benevolent creature go free. 
He raised his head and looked at me, perhaps for 
a second, and then, with an easy and graceful slow- 
ness, glided into the canebrake. I passed up the 
road, and was joined by Mr. Moselej^ and Abeham. 
On our return I was telling them of the snake, and 
when we came to the place, all speaking loudly 
and laughing, I said : " That heap is where the 
snake laj^," and, behold, there he was again, in the 
same place. He was not ten feet from where we 
stood. He had concealed his long body behind 
some leaves and earth, and had placed his head 
cunningly, as he thought, on the top of the ash 
heap, Avhere it very closely resembled a dark 
creeper leaf. He was evidently prepared for a 
good look at the intruders. He made no motion 



438 ETHICS OF BOXIKG AND MANLY SPORT. 

as we stood looking at him and talking about him, 
but stared at us unwinkingly. We were amused 
at his audacity, and went on calling each other's 
attention to his method of concealment, and his 
evident purpose of observation, all the while think- 
ing it was a king-snake. At last Abeham went»to 
stir him up, to see how long he was, when the 
snake slowly lifted its head, and again Abeham 
retired in dismay, crying out : ^ It's a moccasin ! 
Shoot him I " We killed him, and found him to be 
an unusually large moccasin, not quite five feet 
long, but very thick and heavy. 

Strange as it may appear, the chief drawbacks of 
the Dismal Swamp are not its serpents, or bears, 
or other formidable wild creatures, but its flies, 
most pestilent of which are the yellow fly, before 
which for six weeks in July and August even the 
colored "swampers" are forced to abandon the 
" gum roads." The yellow fly raises a burning 
blister with every bite ; and, helped by the " red- 
horse mosquito," gnats and gallinippers, they can, 
it is said, kill a mule. 

The largest wild animal (except cattle) found 
in the Dismal Swamp is the black bear. Captain 
Wallace killed thirty on his farm last winter (by 
spring guns set around his cornfields), one of 
which weighed 850 pounds ; and " Jim " the 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 439 

friendly " swamper " said he had counted twenty- 
seven bears crossing a " gum road " one morning 
on their way to a field on the- Suffolk side of the 
swamp. There are also hog bear (from the size), 
Seneca bear (white breast), panther, wildcat 
(numerous and large, about three times the size of 
the ordinary cat), deer (quite numerous, and some 
with noble antlers), coon, opossum, rabbit, fox, 
squirrel, otter, weasel, and muskrat. 

One word more about the snakes. One night 
(the early summer nights are cool in the swamp) 
we had an immense fire outside the hut, the logs, 
five or six feet long, standing on end and sending 
up a roaring flame. Several ''swampers," who 
had come to sit at our fire and chat, began fishing 
for catfish, which are attracted by a light. They 
were pulling them in briskly, and one pulled in a 
large eel, over two feet in length and very thick. 
They instantly beheaded him and pulled his skin 
off, leaving the flayed body to wriggle about in the 
dust. It was horribly like a snake, and we had to 
tell Abeham to throw it into the water. The 
circle had drawn closer to the kindly flame, when 
one said, pointing to a dark, round object about 
three yards from the fire : " Is that another eel ? " 

Every eye was fastened on it, and no one spoke, 
but Abeham quietly went for a gun, and without 



440 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

a word shot the intruder. It was a moccasin that 
had come out of the canebrake and coiled himself 
to enjoy the fire. 

One day Moseley was out on the lake fishing, 
and I was paddling quietly under the trees on the 
bank, hoping to shoot a red-bird or a crowned 
thrush for specimens. I heard Moseley hail me, 
and answered, but then he went on in a very 
queer way talking with some one in the swamp 
beyond me. At last I went out to him and found 
that he had discovered an echo of wonderful clear- 
ness, and w^hich was otherwise interesting. Near 
the shore I had not heard it, but a quarter of a 
mile out it was startlingly distinct. 

The sound was quite unlike the hard resonance 
thrown back from cliff, mountain, or cave. It 
smacked of the swamp in a manner hard to de- 
scribe. The repetition was largely magnified, 
though it seemed to be thrown to a distance, and 
to come from a great height, as if it had bounded 
up from the wide field of the swamp. The sound 
had an elastic click about it, like the remote stroke 
of a woodman's axe. It was the echo from a 
wood, unmistakably, and not from a wall. 

Strange to say, tlie best word to throw to an 
echo is its own name. It loves to fling it back un- 
dipped and sudden. Divide the syllables, stop- 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 441 

ping at the '' ech," and it seems to wait impatiently 
for the '^o." We had a long conversation with it, 
and wondered whether it resided in the dense 
canebrake and higher foliage that lined the water 
front, or rebounded upward like a boy's ball that 
had fallen on the vast concavity of the tree tops. 

Abeham said he had never heard of the echo 
before, and he listened with all his ears, laughing 
consumedly when the echo shouted defiance ; but 
he would not try it, from shyness as we thought. 

We spent the days exploring lake and swamp, 
returning to camp tired at night, but repaid by our 
experience. We were seeing the lake and swamp 
as no one can ever see them without such boats as 
ours. A heavy boat, with oars, cannot pass 
through the ditches and canals, nor even coast the 
lake inside the line of stumps. The negro ''dug- 
out " is available for lake and canal, but it is 
heavy and slow, and it cannot face the lake in 
rough water and high wind. The birch-bark canoe 
would get snagged at every length. The only 
safe and pleasant boat for the swamp is the cedar 
canoe, and an open one is better than a decked one, 
to let the moccasins wriggle out if they happen to 
fall in Avhile you are passing through the narrow 
canals. 

During our passage round the lake we came to 



442 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

very many old and new '' gum roads '' running 
into the swamp. We followed these until we saw 
the nature of each. Some had been deserted appa- 
rently scores of years ago, and it was a sorry sight 
to see the effect of the ruthless timber-cutting 
which is going on to-day as it was 50 or 100 years 
ago. No intelligent forestrj^ has ever been applied 
to the swamp; the selection of the trees has 
been wholly left to ignorant men. Where whole 
groves of juniper or cypress were cut down, the 
cleared land was lef* to grow up in jungle, and 
the jungle that follows this cutting is an impene- 
trable canebrake, through which an elephant could 
not force his way for a mile. During these wan- 
derings Mr. Moseley never lost an opportunity of 
capturing a characteristic sketch or photograph, 
and his pictures faithfully preserve many of the 
striking features of the swamp. 

The beauty and profusion of the vegetation seen 
from these " gum roads " is indescribable. The 
greens of the underwood are the intensest hues of 
nature ; the ferns dripping with moisture, the 
yellow jessamine climbing the great trees, the 
familiar Virginia creeper rioting in its leaps and 
lovely hangings. Again and again, not knowing, 
we were tempted to gather the attractive trumpets 
of the poisonous oakvine, that is so virulent that 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 443 

to bathe in water in which it hangs will blister 

and corrupt the flesh. This is Moore's "' deadly 

vine," that 

*' doth weep 

Its venomous tear, and nightly steep 

The flesh with blistering dew ! " 

" There are two things I should like to know,'' 
said Moseley, during our last day on the lake, 
'' and one is what that fellow in the Norfolk tug 
meant by advising us to keep our pistols handy? 
Surely there could be no men more good-natured 
and lawful than these poor fellows who work in 
the swamp." 

This was emphatically true. Considering the 
wild life the '' swampers " lead, they are the most 
harmless, amiable, and, I should say, innocent men 
I have ever met. Their conversation with us and 
among themselves was about as light, cheerful, and 
curious as that of children. They carry no 
weapons ; they are sober, play-loving, and oblig- 
ing. Only on one colored man in the swamp did 
we see anything like a weapon, and that was a 
razor, ostentatiously carried in his waistcoat pocket 
by a jaunty mulatto ; but he had been a great trav- 
eller, he said, and he had only come into the swamp 
to see some friend among the juniper-cutters, 
though perhaps he had some other reason for a 



444 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

little retirement from society. The swamp is a 
fine place for a retreat. 

" What is the other thing you are in doubt 
about? " I asked Moseley. 

" The Avild cattle. We have seen only that red 
and white cow and calf, though they say they are 
numerous. I can't believe that that tame-looking 
cow was wild." 

'' But what business would a tame cow have in 
the depths of the swamp, and how could she get 
home if she had a home to go to ? " 

He admitted that it was hard to find a domestic 
reason for the cow being in the swamp, but still 
he doubted. We were passing at the time through 
a narrow and dark waterway, where the sheets of 
deep water under the trees lay like black glass. 
We came to a dry bank in the morass, and, stand- 
ing there, quietly and proudly looking at us as we 
approached, was a red bull about three years old. 
We stopped paddling and returned the stare. He 
stood beside our only passage, a narrow one. 
Abeham was behind, and he shouted, '' Look out, 
dere ; dat wild bull dang'ous ! " 

We shouted at him, but he paid no heed. He 
was a superb creature, dark red all over, round- 
headed and very small. We broke branches and 
waved them and shouted, at a distance from him 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMi*. 445 

of about twenty yards. Not an eye winked, 
but his tail gave one or two quiet waves from 
side to side. Abeliam wanted us to load a rifle, 
and kill him ; but this would be wanton, as we 
were to leave the swamp the next day. Still we 
must pass, and he would not move. He paid no 
attention to a gun pointed at him. The poor 
fellow was only half wild, one could not help 
thinking ; the hereditary taint of human associa- 
tion was in his blood. Probably his grandfather 
had fed in a fenced field, and had submitted to be 
'' driven home " by a bare-footed boy. 

At last a shot fired into the canebrake close to 
him gave him a shock. He looked at the canes 
where the small shot rushed, and then turned and 
trotted into the swamp. 

That night we decided to leave the lake next 
day, passing through the Feeder and keeping along 
the main canal until we reached the Pasquotank 
river in North Carolina. 

It rained in torrents in the early part of the 
night, and then cleared up, and the full moon 
shone on the lake. It was a scene of marvellous 
beauty, which color alone, not words, could repro- 
duce. The lake was smooth, and incredibly black, 
the water retaining absolutely no light," and only 
appearing to be liquid by surface shining. The 



446 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

moon's reflection, on the contrary, was whiter than 
it would be on common water, and it crossed the 
lake like the avenue to a king's palace. 

It was five o'clock in the morning, and the east- 
ern sky was paling the moon, when we stood on 
the edge of the lake, with ''A health to thee, Tom 
Moore ! " and then we broke camp. 

As our canoes shot out on the lake and we 
looked back on the camp, we knew that the days 
and nights spent there could never be forgotten. 

We crossed the lake in the teeth of a stiff breeze 
that made the beautiful brown waves leap at us in 
play, as if to stay our going. It was still early 
morning when we reached the mouth of the Feeder, 
and took our last look at the lake, in memory 
of which Moseley carried the scene off in his camera. 

This last look at the lake, between the trees, 
showed us a tall cypress with immense roots stand- 
ing up in the deep water, like a suffering mytho- 
logical tree, condemned and metamorphosed for 
offending the gods. 

Then we set ouriaces toward the outer world, 
or toward '' the bank," as our friends " the swamp- 
ers" would say, and a lovely passage we had, run- 
ning with the swift current through the shadowy 
Feeder. We stopped only twice on our way, once 
to capture a terrapin that was sunning himself on 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 447 




448 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

a log, and again to fire at a snake in the reeds, a 
shot which was admirably captured with an in- 
stantaneous photograph. 

Reaching the canal, we turned southward toward 
North Carolina, and at two o'clock reached a 
station on the canal where there was a store kept 
by a little man who was as consequential and dis- 
obliging as it only lies in the power of a rural 
magnate to be. Though we had breakfasted early 
and not very well, we had to proceed hungry on 
our way. 

The locks we came to now lowered us step by 
step, until at last, having passed South Mills, the 
largest village on the canal, we were dropped into 
the tide-water of the Pasquotank river. 

After a long and winding way between densely 
wooded banks, the lonely river gradually widening 
into a large sheet, we ran after nightfall under a 
railroad bridge, and saw the lights of a toAvn, or, 
rather, one solitary lantern set on a wharf, and 
knew we had reached Elizabeth City, N. C. 

We could only see that the main street was 
shaded with noble elm trees, as we went to the 
Albemarle Hotel ; and it is pleasant to record here 
that we had a supper and breakfast in this little- 
heard-of place that would have done credit to 
Delmonico^s for material, cooking, and service. 



X ^. 



X 




CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. -149 

Next morning we had a look at the city, and a 
sad one. This was a noted seat of culture, wealth, 
and fashion before the war, the dread marks of 
which were still plainly seen on every hand. The 
main street, that was a pride to the State thirty 
years ago, was burned by the Confederates them- 
selves to save it from the '' invaders." Large 
squares of house lots are vacant still, grass-grown, 
and ruin-covered, with here and there a poor, 
shaky-looking store cheek by jowl with a board 
shanty filled with negro children. 

In walking through this city one could not help 
moralizing on the awful affliction that befalls a 
defeated country. Here are the men, middle-aged 
and still young, who remember the proud and 
gracious old times, and who are doomed forever to 
contrast them with the sordid and compromising 
efforts of hopelessly broken fortunes. Over all 
the country round about Elizabeth City the fierce 
waves of war had rolled, leaving a fearful mark. 
We saw noble houses, once filled with beauty and 
luxury, now crowded with colored working people ; 
gardens in which the roses, reverting to single- 
petalled wildness, struggled for sunlight under 
burdened clothes-lines. 

But we saw one house to remember with pleas- 
ure, with a rose garden in front of it like a picture 



450 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPORT. 

from sensuous Pompeii ; and then we came aivay, 
thinking that Elizabeth City might, indeed, once 
more awake to proud and prosperous days. But, 
said the thought, it will take more than a genera- 
tion for the revival, and the people of the old 
glory shall not be those of the new. The wealth 
that was based on slavery was a bubble, and the 
pride that went Avith it was a poison for the very 
earth. God's hand is heavy when the scales come 
to be balanced. Expiation and atonement are 
always bitter, however they may be sweetened by 
the spirit of renunciation. 

We intended to return to Norfolk by the Chesa- 
peake & Albemarle Canal, the flourishing water- 
way, croAvded with ships, which ought to be only 
a young rival of the Dismal Swamp Canal, for the 
latter had all the natural advantages, and also con- 
trolled the field. 

But the Chesapeake & Albemarle Company had 
an inferior route, plus intelligence, and the conse- 
quence is that it is crowded with commerce, while 
the Dismal Swamp Canal is traversed by one poor 
little steamer, the Thomas Newton^ that looks like 
the working model of Fulton's first steamship. 

There was a storm raging along the coast, and 
we could not face bad weather outside in our 
canoes to get to the other canal, so we shipped our 



CANOEING IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 451 

effects on the Thomas Newton to return on our 
tracks along the whole course of the Dismal 
Swamp Canal. 

The Dismal Swamp could be drained and re- 
claimed, and a property of very large value would 
be added to the States of Virginia and North 
Carolina. While in process of reclamation, and 
perhaps afterward, the present canals could be re- 
tained to get out the timber, which is enormously 
valuable ; but the locks making the central or 
higher level could be abolished. This would 
lower the canal and the lake about seven feet. It 
would be comparatively inexpensive to dredge this 
level down to the outer levels. 

A fall of seven feet in the lake would reduce it 
perhaps half a mile, leaving all round it a beach 
of white sand of exquisite fineness. This would 
at once purify it from the water snakes that make 
its banks hideous. 

The surrounding swamp would drain into the 
lake, the Feeder and the canals, leaving their banks 
dry. A road could easily be made on one side, 
and a clearing on the other, along all these canals, 
sweeping away moccasins and other water reptiles. 

The reduction of the water could be made 
profitable to the OAvners in another way. The city 
of Norfolk needs a water supply, and here is the 



,452 ETHICS OF BOXING AND MANLY SPOKT. 

i 
j 

best water in the country at its very door. If the 
color of the water be objectionable it could be 
passed through a filter and made crystal, though it 
is possible that in the change it might lose its anti- 
malarial quality. 

A narrow-gauge railroad ought to be run from 
Portsmouth to South Mills. (Since writing 
this the programme of the Portsmouth & South 
Mills railroad has been sent to me, and the promo- 
ters have paid me the compliment of inserting as a 
preface part of my report of the Dismal Swamp. 
This railroad will complete the ruin of the canal 
as a commercial way, and will leave it valueless 
except as a drain.) 

And now I have told the story of the Dismal 
Swamp as two men saw it who had no other inter- 
est than that of chance voyagers through the wil- 
derness. I have tried to convey to others exactly 
the impressions left on my mind, often using re- 
straint in order not to overstate the good or evil 
qualities of the Dismal Swamp. 



INDEX. 



Academy, Royal Irish, 169. 

Air-bag, The, Use of, 1:33. 

Alcohol, Its Use in Training, 124. 

Althorp, Lord, Opinion of Boxing, 2. 

America, Athletics in, 80. 

American Fairplay Rules, C6. 

Amycus and Pollux, IT. 

Appalaken, Description of Susquehanna River at, 270. 

Appendix, The, 88. 

Art, Ancient Irish, 218. 

Athens, Singing Beach at, 274. 

Athletes, Diet in Training, 11'4. 

" Leading Irish, lTl-2-3. 

" Xot Short Lived, 104. 

'' Training of, 103, lOG. 

*' The Grecian, Definition of, 18. 

'' " '' Diet in Training, 115. 

*' '' " How Esteemed, 19. 

'' " '' Training of, 22. 

Athletics, See Introduction. 
Athletics in the School, Necessity of, 147, 152. 
Back Sword, Definition of, 44. 
Ballymote, See Book of. 
Banting, Mr., Plan for Reducing Flesh, 155. 
Bare Hand Fighting, 6. 

(349) 



350 INDEX. 

Bare Knuckle Battle, The Longest, 80. 
Baronoff, Capt., 73, 

Battle Axes, When First Used in Ireland, 179. 
Benen, The Law of, 213. 
Belly-dart, Gai-bolga, 220. 
Big Foul Rift, See Great Foul Bift. 
Binghamton, Description of the River at, 262. 
Binns, Dr., Anatomy of Sleep, 159. 
Book of Ballymote, 208, 211. 
'' " Kells, 218. 

" " Leinster, 200, 207, 212, 215, 217. 
'' '^ Navan, 193. 
" " Rights, 198, 213. 
Boston School Board, Ext. From Report of Hygiene Com., 147, 
Boxers, Races who have produced them, 62. 

" British, History of, 51. 
Boxing, Antiquity of, 1, 11. 

'' Comparative Value of, 1. 

" Distinction between Ancient and Modern, 13. 

" English Claim to Invention Unfounded, 15. 

" English Style, The Brutalities of, 5. 

'' With Greeks and Romans, 14, 29. 
Breakfast, The, in Training, 127. 
Breathing, How to Breathe Properly, 144. 

" See also Deep Breathing. 

Brehon Laws, 188, 204. 
British Boxing, 6. 
Bromidon, an Ideal Brook, 257. 
Bronze Weapons in Ireland, 175. 
Broughton, John, 48. 

" The Father of Modern Boxing, 11. 
Broughton' s Rules 48, 50. 
Caxoe, The Comparative Value of, 243, 244. 
Carman, 196, 200. 

'' See Fair of Carman. 
Cattle-Prey of Cooley (Tain-BO'Chuailgne), 215. 
*'Celt," 180, 181. 



INDEX. 351 

Cestus, The Greek, Use of, 13, 15, 16. 

'' '' Roman, 10, 30. 

Challenges, Specimens of, 47. 
Chambers, Dr. T. K., Quotation from, 117, 153. 
Champion's Iland-Stone, 177, 17*^. 
Chaucer, Geoffrey, on Irish bowmen, 179. 
Chess, Antiquity of, in Ireland, 201. 
Chopper, The, 16. 
Clasi)er, H., Quotation from, 128. 
Clinch, The, 06, 90. 
Closed Windows, Evil of, 137. 
Conn, of the Hundred Battles, 189. 
Connecticut River, The, its Value to Canoeists, 259. 
Cooper, George, 54. 
Corpulence, How to Reduce, 153. 
Costelio, Rev. Fr., Hospitality of, 272. 
Craisech, The, of the Firbolgs, 170. 
Cribb, Thos., 58. 
Cross-buttock, 57. 

'' " Antiquity of, 200. 

Cross-counter Blow, 27, 29,61, 81. 
Cuchullain, See Cuclmllin. 
Cuchullin, 185, 219. 
Curragh, The, of Kildare, 53. 
Cynisca. 25. 
Cyrene, 23. 

Dares and Entellus, Episode of, 29, 31. 
Davies, Sir John, Quotation from. 237. 
Delaware River, Description of, 311, 319. 
Delaware Water Gap, 322. 
Deep Breathing, Necessity of. 111, 144. 
Deer-Island, Xewburyport, 310. 
Diagoras of Rhodes, Story of, 20. 
Diet in Training, 114, 

'' " " by Dr. F. A. Harris, 119. 
Diet of Greek Athletes, 21, 115. 
Dindsenchas, a Gaelic Tract, 203. 



352 



INDEX. 



Dinner, The, in Training, 129, 
Donald na Xgeelach, 205. 
Donnelly, Dan, 52, 60. 
Donnelly's Hollow, 55. 
'*' Ducking" in boxing, 9. 
Dumb-bells, Hoav to Exercise with, 135. 

" The Use of, 183, 137, 

Entellus and Dares, Episode of, 29, 31. 
Eochaid Garbh, 203. 
Epeus and Euryalus, Episode of, 29. 
Exercise in Daily Life, 141, 162. 
'' " Training, 129, 1.34. 
Faik of Carman, 207, 208, 210, 214. 

" '•' Tailten, 207. 
Fairs, Ancient Irish, 202. 

Fair-riay Kules. See American Fair-Play Rules. 
Famous Prize-fighters, List of, 105. 
Fenians, Etymology of, 189. 
Ferdiad, Fight of, 219, 220. 
Feudalism, Its Influence on Athletics, 37. 

*' Formal Introduction into England, 40. 

Fianna Eireann, 189, 193. 

" '' Ten Conditions of Membership, 193, 195. 

Fiarlanna, The, 177, 209. 
Figg, James, 43. 
Fight, Longest bare-hand, 80. 
glove, 80. 
"' for Largest Stake, 80. 
" First in America, 80. 
Finn, Boyish Exploits of, 200. 
FirbolgCraisech, 176. 
Firbolgs, 175. 
Food, Conditions for taking, 122. 

'' How to Prepare it for Training, 120. 
*' See also Diet. 
Fresh Air, Value of, 138, 141. 
Gai-bolga. See Belly Dart. 



INDEX. 353 

Gladiatorial Games, Abolition of, 3H. 

*' Shows, 32, 33. 

Gladiators, Origin of, 33. 
Gladstone, Wm. E., Quotation from, 242. 
Glove Fighting, Superiority of, 6. 

" " The Longest, 80. 

'' '' What Sullivan has done for it, 8. 

Gouging, 61. 
Great Foul Rift, Description of, 304. 

'' '' '' Running Through, 330. 

Greek Athletes, Diet of, 21, 115. 

'' '' List of most Celebrated, 22, 23. 

'' "• Training of, 22, 25, 

Greek Boxers, Position of, 14. 

'' '' Skill of, 2G. 

Greek National Games, 18. 

" Sacred Games, 23. 
Guiteras, Dr. Ramon, Canoeing Trip. 244. 305. 
Hall, Thos., Fight with Donnelly, 52. 
Hanging-bag, The, 132, 164. 

'' See also, Air-bag. 

Harris, Dr. Francis A., Treatise on Diet in Training, 118. 
Harvard System, The, of Training. 117. 
Heenan, John C, 63. 

'' " Physical Condition in Fight with King. 109. 

Holmes, Oliver W., Quotation from, 2, 103. 
Horse Racing, Ancient Irish, 200, 
Hunting, Ancient Irish, 200. 
Hurling, Antiquity of, 195, 19T. 
Hurst, " Staley Bridge Infant,'^ 66, 
Illustrations, The, 88. 
Ireland, Ancient Games of, 170. 
'• Ancient Weapons of, 171. 
'' Minerals of, 239, 241. 
" Xatural Resources of, 236. 
Irish, The, Their Comparative Rank as Athletes, 170. 
Irus, Fight with Ulysses, 27. 



354 INDEX. 

Joyce, Dr., on the Danes in Ireland, 208. 

Kane, Sir Rob't, L.L.D., on Strength of Irishmen, 170. 

Keating, Rev. Dr. Geoffrey, 191, 193. 

Kells, See Book of. 

Kilrain, 79. 

King, Tom, 65. 

Laflix, John M., '' The Model Man," 163. 

Laighin, The, 177. 

Lancet, The, Quotation from, 109. 

Leinster, See Book of Leinster. 

LiaLamha Laicli, Champion's Hand-Stone, 177, 178. 

Lic-tailme, 177, 196. 

Liquids, Use of in Training, 123, 129. 

London Prize Ring Rules, 89, 90. 

Lugaidh Lam-fadha, 203. 

Mac, Queen, 220. 

Mace, Bronze, 65. 

'* Jem, fight with King, 65. 
3Iaclaren on Respiration, 111. 
Magh Tuireadh, Battle of, Weapons L^sed, 177. 
Manais, The, 177, 186, 187, 217. 
Marquis of Queensberry Rules, 89, 95. 
Meat, Use of in Training, 115, 120. 
Mendoza, Daniel, his Blows, 61. 
Milk, Use of in Training, 120, 123. 
Milo, 21. 

Mitchell, Chas., Contest with Sullivan, 6, 75. 
Modern Boxing, How Improved l)y Sullivan, 5. 
Molineaux, Thos., 54, 62. 
Molyneaux, See Molineaux. 
Morgan, Dr. John, Statistics of Training, 104. 
Moseley, Edw. A., Canoeing with, 305. 
Muscular Power, Its Comparative Value, 111. 
Museum, Royal Irish Academy, 169. 
Music, Ancient Irish, 216. 
Musical Beach, 274. 
Nations Who Have Produced National Boxers, 62. 



INDEX. 355 



IS'avan, See Book of. 

Xewenliam, T., on Resources of Ireland, 238-240. 

Normans, The, in England, 39. 

O'CuiuiY, Prof., ITS, 192. 

O'llartagan, Cineadli, Poem, 190. 

Oliver, Fight with Donnelly, 58. 

Ollamh Fodhla, 204. 

Olympian Games, Order of, 24. 

" " Preparation for, 25. 

'' *' Prizes of, 19, 24. 

O'Keefe, Father, Hospitality of, 255, 
O'Shea, Michael C, on Ancient Exercises, 204. 
Over-Training, Effects of, 108. 
Oxford, A Day's Training at, 116. 
Oxygen, its place in [N'ature, 140. 
Palstave, 180, 181. 
Pancratium, The, 22. 
Peel, Sir Robert, Opinion of Boxing, 1. 
Perelchine, Lieut. Michael, 72. 
Petit, Fight with Slack, 50. 
Pherenice, 25. 
Pillows, The Use of, 162. 
Poets, Ancient Irish, Power of, 220. 
Pollux, The God of Boxing, 16. 
Prize Fighters, Ages of most Famous, 105. 
Prize Ring, Rules of, 89-96. 
Prizes for Boxing among the Greeks, 19. 
Pugilism among the Greeks, 14. 

" Why Essential to Education, 1 

QUEEXSBERRY RULES, 89, 95. 

Rapids, The, of the Susquehanna, 207. 

" Best Way to Run, 316. 
Respiration, Value of, 111. 
Rest after Meals, 123. 
Rift, Definition of a Delaware, 309. 
Rights, See Book of. 
Round Blow, Antiquity of, 8. 



356 



INDEX. 



Kouiid Blow, How Delivered, 10, 11. 

" Mendoza's Opinion of, 61. 
Rowing, 128, 131. 

Eoyal Irish Seal, The History of a, 182, 184. 
Eoyal Irish Academy, see Academy. 
Rules of the Ring, Definition of, 4, 5. 

See also Broughton, London, Marquis of O 
American Fairplay. 
Running, The Value of, 113. 

" in Training, 132. 

Rushton, great Canoe Builder, 306. 

Russell, T. 0']S'eill, Letter of, 198. 

Russian Sea Fight, 72. 

Saixt Ciakax, 217-219. 

Sand-Bag, The, its Use in Training, 133. 

Sayers, Tom, 62, 63. 

Scathach, War College of, 185. 

Second Wind, The, 112. 

Shadow, Canoe Model, Use of, 269. 

Shaw, British Life-Guardsman, 70. 

Shelley, P. B., on Diet, 157. 

Slack & Petit, Story of, 50. 
Sleep, how to Induce it, 159. 

*' Its Value in Training, 124, 130. 
Slegh, The, 177, 226, 227. 
Sling-Stone, The, 177, 196. 
Smith, Sydney, On Eating and Drinking, 156. 

'' Opinion of Boxing, 3. 

Spardha, The, 181. 
Sparring, Its Value in Training, 127. 

'' With whom to Spar, 132. 
Spenser, Edmund, Description of Ireland, 236. 
Springfield, a Day at, 255. 
Stakes, The Largest, 80. 
Staley Bridge Infant, The, m. 
Straight-Counter, 73. 
Striking Bag. See Hanging Bag. 



INDEX. 357 

Stuic, or War Horn, 196. 

Sullivan, John L., Contest with Mitchell, 0, 75. 

*' '' Analysis of His Style, 79. 

Sunburn, The Remedy for, 254. 

Susquehanna River, Description of,. for Canoeists, 268. 
Swimming, S3. 
Sword, Relationship to Boxing, 12, 38. 

The Use of, 45. 
Tailtex, Ancient Irish Games at, 195, 200, 202, 203, 205. 
Tain-B6-Chuailgne, 215. 
Tchernoff, Lieut.-Colonel, 72. 
Telemachus, 36. 

" Telltown Marriage," 206. See also Tailten. 
Thackeray, AYm. M. , Poem on Heenan and Sayers, 64. 
Tuatha De Danann, 176, 179, 182. 
Tipton Slasher, The, 63. 
Tobacco, Its Use in Training, 124 
Training, The Danger of, 103, 106. 

" The Purpose of, 106, 107. 

" " Advice on, by Dr. Harris, 118. 

Trenton, Beautiful River at, 346 

Canoe Club, 346. 
Ulysses and Irus, Episode of, 27. 
Upper-Cut, 62. 

Vegetables, Use in Training, 115, 120. 
Venerable Bede, Opinion of Ancient Ireland, 2.36. 
Vesta, 71. 

Walkixg before Breakfast, 126. 
Walpack Bend, Description of, 317, 320. 
Wapentake, .39. 

" When and how Abolished, 40. 

Water, Use of in Training, 123, 129. 
Water-Gap, Description of, 322. 
Weapons, Ancient Irish. 

Weapon Feats, Ancient Irish, List of, 185-187. 
Westhall, Charles, Suggestions on Training, 127. 
Whateley, Dr. , Exercise to Induce Sleep, 160. 



358 INDEX. 

Wilde, Sir Wm., Quotation from, 20-3, 207, 218. 

Wilkesbarre, Canoeing Episode at, 289. 

Women, Greek and Roman, their Relation to the National 

Games, 25. 
Woodford, W. B., on Reducing Corpulency, 154. 
Woodgate, W. K., Exercise in Training, loO. 

Food in Training, 114 
Wrestling, Antiquity of, 199. 

Wyatt, M. Digby, on Early Irish Manuscripts, 218. 
Yale System of Training, 117. 
Young, Arthur, on Resources of Ireland, 288. 



THE 



STATUES IN THE BLOCK, 

AXn OTHER POEMS. 



BY JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY. 



OPIXIOXS OF THE PRESS. 

From The Boston Bally Advertiser. 

"Mr. O'Reilly excels in dramatic poetry. When he has an 
heroic story to tell, he tells it with ardor and vigor; he appreci- 
ates all its nobleness of soul, as well as its romantic and pictur- 
esque situations; and his 'Song for the Soldiers,' and 'The 
Mutiny of the Cha ns,' in his last volume, show with what 
power he can portray the daring and heroism that have stirred 
his own heart. He writes with ease and freedom, but his 
poems of love and of discontent are not superior to those of 
other well-known English poets. His best work in this way are 
' Her Refrain,' a sweet, tender poem, true to life; and 'Wait- 
ing,' that is far more impassioned. The cynical verses and 
epigrams scattered through the book are piquant, and enhance 
its sweetness, as bitter almonds do the richness of confection- 
ery. There is another side still to Mr. O'Reilly's poetry, and 
it would be easy to represent him as chiefly religious, earnest, 
and tender. His poems abound in passages like the following 
from ' Living ' : — 

" * Who waits and sympathizes with the pettiest life, 
And loves all things, and reaches up to God 
With thanks and blessing — he alone is living.' 

(1) 



2 THE STATUES IN THE BLOCK. 

" And ' From the Earth a Cry,' this hue: — 

" ' God purifies slowly by peace, "aiul urgently by fire.' 

'' From ' The Statues in the Block ' : — 

" * And I know 
That when God gives to us the clearest sight, 
He does not touch our eyes with Love, but Sorrow.' " 

From The New York World, 

"Nobody can look over Mr. O'Keilly's poems without being 
convinced that they are poems ; that is to say, tiiat the writer 
has really something to say, and something which could not be 
said so Avell or so completely in prose. Those who are in the 
habit of looking over current volumes of Averse will recognize 
that this is very much to say of them. Mr. O'Reilly's verses 
are, indeed, quite out of the common. There is not one of the 
poems in this thin volume that is not a genuine poem in the 
sense that it records a genuine and poetical impression. His 
talent is essentially, we should say almost exclusively, dra- 
matic, as strictly dramatic as Browning's. The most success- 
ful of these poems are those which are professedly dramatic 
rather than those which are contemplative. This excellence in 
dramatic verse is national. From Thomas Davis down, the 
Irish lyrists, who are worthy of classification at all in poetry, 
excel in representation of rapid action and of the emotion which 
is connected with rapid action; and this is what we call dra- 
matic excellence. Mr. O'lieilly's chief successes are in such 
poems as 'A Song for the Soldiers,' and ^ The Mutiny of the 
Chains,' in the present volume." 

Newark (N. J.) Morning Begister. 

*' Roberts Brothers, Boston, have just published ' The Statues 
in the Block, and Other Poems,' by John Boyle O'Reilly. The 
poem that gives the book its title is the story of four persons 
looking at a block of marble and seeing an ideal in it. One, her 
he loved, his jewel, and the jewel of the world. Another, her 
upon whom he lavished coin — he drank the wine she filled and 



THE STATUES IN THE BLOCK. 3 

made her eat the dregs, and drenched her honey ^vith a sea of 
gall ; he, however, was but one, who swooned with love beside 
her. The third Avas suffering 'Motherland,' and, as may be 
supposed, the author's pen Avaxes strong at picturing the sor- 
row, because — 

" ' No love but thine can satisfy the heart, 
For love of thee holds in it hate of wrong, 
And shapes the hope that moulds humanity.' 

"The fourth sees in the block his lost child, and the pen 
softens as he sees — 

" ' The little hands still crossed — a child in death; 
My link ^vith love — my dying gift from her 
Whose last look smiled on both when I was left 
A loveless man, save this poor gift, alone. 

I see my darling in the marble now — 

My wasted leaf — her kind eyes smiling fondly. 

And through her eyes I see the love beyond. 

The binding light that moves not ; and I know 

That when God gives to us the clearest sight 

He does not touch our eyes with Love, but Sorrow.' 

"Here and there through the collection are little unnamed 
wavelets, of which these four lines are a good examx^le: — 

'' * You gave me the key of your heart, my love; 
Then why do you make me knock ? ' 
*0, that was yesterday, saints above !^ 
And last night — I changed the lock ! ' " 

Dr. Shelton M'Kenzle in the Philadelphia Evening Neivs. 

"Good poetry, which constitutes a considerable portion of 
literature, has been rather scarce of late. The odds and ends 
of verse which get into the magazines are generally aimless 
and crude. The poet sits dow^n to write what he has thought, 
but the poetaster takes pen in hand to think what he shall 
think. There is a world of difference between the results — 
that is, between true poesy and merely mechanical verse. . . 
The poem which leads off, covering only thirteen pages, is the 
longest in the volume, and is full of deep-thoughted expres- 



4 THE STATUES IN THE BLOCK. 

sioii; but it is probable that ' Muley Malek, the King/ a lay of 
chivalry, will have more numerous admirers. There is also 
'From the Earth a Cry,' reviewing the leading events of the 
decade which closed in 1870. The heart-poems here are highly 
impressive in their truth. Here and there, on casual fly-leaves, 
we find curt truths ; thiis : — 

"'Life is a certainty, 

Death is a doubt; 
Men may be dead 

While they're walking about. 
Love is as needful 

In being as breath; 
Loving is dreaming, 

And waking is death.' 

"Here is another leaflet; an epigram if you please to call it 
so: — 

" ' You gave me the key of your heart, my love, 
Then why do you make me knock ? ' 
* O, that was yesterday, saints above ! 
And last night — I changed the lock I ' 

*' Apropos of the season, which holds back its beauty and 
bloom, here is a bit of truth : — 

" ' O, the rare spring- flowers I take them as they ccmie; 
Do not wait for summer buds, they may never bloom; 
Every sweet to-day sends, we are wise to save; 
Roses bloom for pulling, the path is to the grave.' 

''In conclusion, we earnestly hope that Mr. Boyle O'Reilly, 
who writes so well, will challenge our attention, our admira- 
tion, far more frequently than he yet has done.-' 

From the Xew York Herald, 

"Mr. O'Reilly has treated with a beautiful purpose the 
theme of four men, each imagining the statue that may be 
carved from a block of marble. Love is the first, Revenge the 
second. Suffering Motherland the third, and Sorrow the last. 
All these are strongly, nay, passionately drawn, with that 



THE STATUES IN THE BLOCK. 5 

inner relation to actual experience in the narrator, which so 
intensifies the interest. The first is a lovely woman : — 

" * O Love! still living, memory and hope, 

Beyond all sweets, thy bosom, breath and lips — 
My jewel and the jewel of the world.' " 

"The second, a faithless woman, cowering above the form 
of her newly-slain paramour : — 

" ' O balm and torture ! he must hate who loves, 
And bleed who strikes to seek thy face, Revenge.' 

"The third a chained woman — Mother and Motherland: — 

" O star. 
That lightens desolation, o'er her beam, 
. . . Till the dawn is red 
Of that white noon when men shall call her Queen.' 

" The fourth is a figure of a dead child : — 

" ' I know 
That when God gives to us the clearest sight 
He does not touch our eyes with Love, but Sorrow.* 

"In 'Muley Malek, the King,^ Mr. O'Reilly bursts over the 
bounds of metre; but in the swing of his utterance there is a 
certain forceful rhythm, indicating an earnest endeavor to 
preserve some of the characteristics of song. In 'From the 
Earth a Cry,' however, all reserve is thrown off, and he 
launches formlessly forth. Walt Whitman chopped up Car- 
lylesque sentences into lines at hazard, but rapidly debased the 
model. Mr. O'Reilly takes a high strident key, and follows 
Whitman's most ambitious endeavors. It is an eloquent in- 
vective, and its fitfulness and spasmodics have a certain 
relation to its grievous story of human oppression. It is as 
formless and as forcible as the onrushing mob it invokes. All 
that is, is wrong; what need of nice measuring of feet ? It is 
not the measured tramp of an army that can be expected where 
the undisciplined millions rise to bear down drilled thousands. 

" ' O Christ! and O Christ ! In thy name the law! 
In Thy mouth the mandate ! In Thy loving hands the whip ! 
They have taken Thee down from Thy cross and sent Thee to scourge 
the people; 



6 THE STATUES IX THE BLOCK. 

They have shod Thy feet with .«pikes, and jointed Tliy dead knees with 

iron, 
And pushed Thee, iiiding behind, to trample the poor dumb faces.' 

" Opi)ression lias its leagues and its triumphs, but 

" ' Never, while steel is cheap and sharp, shall thy kiuglings sleep 
without dreaming.' " 

From The Buffalo Union. 

" The strength, tenderness, and exceeding power and aptness 
of expression conspicuous in a former volume — (' Songs, Leg- 
ends, and Ballads,') — are all here, intensified. The poet goes 
beyond the limits of any one land or nationhood. He sings 
here for all time and for every nation. His inspiration is 
Hiunanity^ wherever it agonizes under tyrannical bonds or 
struggles to break them. 'From the Earth a Cry,' is a very 
epitome of the history of the manifold uprisings, all the world 
over, of the weak against the strong during the decade just 
ended — the voice of the oppressed clamoring to Heaven for ven- 
geance — an arraignment of the 

*' 'Landlords and Lawlords and Tradelords ' 

before the bar of justice, and in face of the terrible growth of 

" ' Communists, Socialists, Nihilists, Rent-rebels, Strikers ' — 

from the seed themselves have sown. 

"We wish we could speak in detail of some of the other 
poems, with their rugged but splendid versification, in which 
the poet has taken 

'"No heed of the words, nor . . . 
the style of the story, 
but 

" ' Let it burst out from the heart, like a spring from the womb of the 
mountain; ' 

or of that majestic opening poem, ' The Statues in the Block,' 
through which this true note rings: — 

" 'AVhen God gives to us the clearest sight, 
He does not touch our eyes with Love, but Sorrow.' 



THE 8TATLES IN THE BLOCK. 7 

*'We strike on a vein of keen but kindly sarcasm at the 
expense of poor human nature here and there through the col- 
lection, especially in a few of those gem- like stanzas that pre- 
lude the different sections. But the poet has a sweet voice for 
tender themes ; and there are some exquisite lyrics here, too, 
like fragrant, delicate flowers, blooming in the clefts of the 
massive rock. Such, notably, are ' Iler Refrain,' ' Waiting,' 
' Jacqueminots,' and ' The Temple of Friendship.' The book is 
inscribed 'To the ^Memory of Eliza Boyle; My Mother.' " 

From The Boston Journal. 

'' The little volume containing ' The Statues in the Block, and 
Other Poems,' by John Boyle O'Reilly, will commend itself to 
those for whom fresh and spirited verse has charms. The 
pieces, which number about twenty, are of two very different 
styles; the one graceful in form, and conveying some light 
fancy or suggestion, and the other careless as to form, usually 
barren of rhyme, and irregular with the pulses of stern and pas- 
sionate emotion. Of the former type are ' Jacqueminots,' ' Her 
Refrain,' and 'The Temple of Friendship'; of the latter, 
'From the Earth a Cry,' ' A Song for the Soldiers,' and ' The 
Mutiny of the Chains.' The first poem mentioned in the latter 
group, and indeed some others belonging to the same group, 
have a Walt Whitmanish turn to them which, we are free to 
confess, we do not like. Take, for example, such lines as these : 
" ' Lightning! the air is split, the crater Imrsts, and the breathing 
Of those below is the fume and lire of hatred. 
The thrones are stayed with the courage of shotted guns. The warning 

dies, 
But queens are dragged to tlie block, and the knife of the guillotine 

sinks 
In the garbage of pampered flesh that gluts its bed and its hinges.' 

" The story of the mutiny in the final poem is finely told, as 
is also the story of the defence of the Cheyennes, in the poem 
preceding it. Mr. O'Reilly is at his best when his blood is hot 
and his indignation roused by the thought of human wrongs ; 
and some of his pieces, Avritten imder this inspiration, have a 
ring like anvil strokes, and stir the blood of the reader as by the 
sound of trumpets." 



OPINIOXS OF TTTE PRESS. 



"SOiVGS FROM THE I^^OUTHERN SEASP 

]}Y JOHX BOYLE O'KEILI.Y. 



'NexK York Arcadian. 

"Like the smell of new-mown hay, or the first breath of 
spring, or an miexpected kiss from well-loved lips, or any other 
^weet, fresh, wholesome, natural delight, is to the professional 
reviewer the first perusal of genuine poetry by a new writer. 
Not for a long time have we experienced so fresh and joyous a 
surprise, so perfect a literary treat, as has been given us by 
these fresh and glowing songs by this young and hitherto 
utterly unknown poet. There is something so thoroughly new 
and natural and lifelike, something so buoyant and wholesome 
and true, so much original power and boldness of touch in 
these songs, that we feel at once that we are in the presence of 
a new power in poetry. This work alone places its author 
head and shoulder above the rank and file of contemporary 
versifiers. . . . The closing passages of ' Uncle Xed's ' 
second tale, are in the highest degree dramatic, — thrilling the 
reader like the bugle-note that sounds the cry to arms. Finally, 
several of the poems are animated by a spirit so affectionate 
and pure, that we feel constrained to love their writer, offering, 
as they do in this respect, so marked and pleasant a contrast 
with too much of the so-called poetry of these modern times." 

(9) 



1() SONGS FROM THE SOUTHERN SEAS, 



Baltimore Bulletin. 

"Mr. O'Reilly is a true poet — no one can read his stirring 
measures and his picturesque descriptive passages without at 
once recognizing the true singer, and experiencing the conta- 
gion of his spirit. He soars loftily and grandly, and his song 
peals forth with a rare roundness and mellowness of tone that 
cheers and inspirits the hearer. His subjects belong to the 
open air, to new fields or untrod wilds, and they are full of 
healthy freshness, and the vigor of sturdy, redundant life. 
We hail Mr. O'Reilly with pleasure, and w^e demand for him 
the cordial recognition he deserves," 



ChicxKjo Inter-OcecDi. 

" We may safely say that we lay these poems down with a 
feeling of delight that there has come among us a true poet, 
who can enchant by the vivid fire of his pictures without 
having recourse to a trick of v/ords, or the re-dressing or re- 
torturing of old forgotten ideas. These poems, for the most 
part, are fresh and lifelike as the lyrics which led our fore- 
fathers to deeds of glory. With scarce a line of mawkish 
sentiment, there is the deep heart-feeling of a true poet. His 
descriptions bear the impress of truth and the realism of 
personal acquaintance with the incidents described. There is 
the flow of Scott in his narrative power, and the fire of Macau- 
lay in his trumpet-toned tales of war. We are much mistaken 
if this man does not in the course of a few years walk the 
course, and show the world how narrative poetry should be 
written. He has it in him, and genius cannot be kept under 
hatches. Passing over ' The Dog Guard,' a fearful picture, we 
come to ' The Amber Whale.' It is impossible to describe the 
intense interest that surrounds this dramatic description. A 
more exciting chase could hardly be conceived, and as we stand 
with bated breath, while the mate drives his lance home to 
the vitals, and the boats go hissing along in the wake of the 
wounded monster, we seem to behold the sea red with blood, 



SONGS FKOM THE SOUTIIEUX SEAS. 11 

and mark the flukes as they sweep the captain's boat into 

eternity. Here is a portion of the story : — 

♦' ' Then we heard the captain's order, *' Heave! " and saw the harpoon 

flv, 
As the whales closed in \Yith their open jaws: a shock and a stifled cry 
Was all that we heard; then we looked to see if the crew were still 

afloat, — 
But nothino- was there save a dull red patch, and the hoards of the 

shattered boat. 
" ' But that was no time for mourning words: the other two boats came 

m, 
And one got fast on the quarter, and one aft th- starboard fin 
Of the ^mber AVhale. For a minute he paused, as if he were in doubt 
As to whether 'twas best to run or fight. " Lay on ! " the mate roared 

out, , ^ 

"And I'll give him a lance ! " The boat shot in; and the mate, when he 

saw his chance 
Of sending it home to the vitals, four times he buried his lance.' 

*'We next come to 'The Dukite Snake,' a tale so simply 
told, so beautifuhy sad, that the heart goes out in pity to the 
poor young husband in his terrible grief. The Dukite Snake 
never goes alone. When one is killed the other will follow to 
the confines of the earth, but he will have revenge. Upon this 
fact the poet has wrought a picture so true and so dramatic 
that it almost chills the blood to read a tale so cruel and so 
lifelike. . . . Among the remaining poems of length, Ave 
have 'The Fishermen of Wexford,' 'The Flying Dutchman,' 
and ' Uncle Xed's Tales.' Ah are good ; but the last are simply 
superb. We doubt if more vivid pictures of war were ever 
drawn. The incidents are detailed with such lifelike force, 
that to any one who had ever felt the enthusiastic frenzy of 
battle, they bring back the sounds of the shells and the shout 
of advancing columns. They are lifelike as the pages of 
Tacitus, and stir the blood to a fever heat of wariike enthus- 
iasm. They are strains to make soldiers.'' 

London Athencevm. 
" Mr. O'Reilly is the poet of a far land. He sings of West- 
ern Australia, that poorest and loveliest of all the Australias, 



12 SONGS FPt03I THE SOUTHERN SEAS. 

wliicli has received from the mother country only her shame 
and her crime. Mr. O'Reilly, in a short poem, speaks of the 
land as 'discovered ere the fitting time,' endowed with a peer- 
less clime, hut having hirds that do not sing, flowers that give 
no scent, and trees that do not fructify. Scenes and incidents, 
however, known to the author, in this perfumeless and mute 
land, have been reproduced by him in a series of poems of much 
beauty. ' The King of the Yasse,' a legend of the bush, is a 
weird and deeply pathetic poem, admirable alike for its concep- 
tion and execution." 

Atlantic. Monthly, 

*'In a modest, well- worded prelude, the poet says: — 

** * From that fair land and drear land in the South 

Of which through years I do not cease to think, 
I brought a tale, learned not by word of mouth, 

But formed by finding here one golden link 
And there another; and with hands unskilled 

For such fine work, but patient of all pain 
For love of it, I sought therefrom to build 

AYhat might have been at first the goodly chain. 

*' 'It is not golden now; my craft knows more 
Of working baser metal than of fine ; 
But to those fate-wrought rings of precious ore 
I add these rugged iron links of mine.' 

'' This is not claiming enough for himself, but the reader the 
more gladly does him justice because of his modesty, and per- 
haps it is this quality in the author which oftenest commends 
his book. ' The King of the Yasse ' is the story of a child of the 
first Swedish emigrants to Australia, who lies dead in his moth- 
er's arms w^hen they land. A native chief, coming with all his 
people to greet the strangers, touches the boy's forehead with a 
great pearl, which he keeps in a carven case or shrine, and the 
mighty magic of it calls him back to life, but with a savage soul, 
as his kindred believe ; for he deserts them for the natives, over 
whom he rules many years, inheriting and wearing the magic 
pearl. At last the young men of the tribe begin to question his 



SONGS FROM THE SOUTHERN SEAS. IS 

authority, and one of them, with a spear tlirust, destroys the 
great pearl. Jacob Eibsen then seems repossessed by a white 
man's soul, and returns to tUespot long since abandoned by his 
kindred, and finds it occupied by English settlers, whose chil- 
dren's simple, child-like playmate he becomes, and remains till 
death. The plot is good ; and it is always managed with a sober 
simplicity, which forms an excellent ground for some strong 
dramatic effects. The Australian scenery and air and natural 
life are everywhere summoned round the story without being 
forced upon the reader. Here, for instance, is a picture at once 
vivid and intelligible, — which is not always the case with the 
vivid pictures of the word-painters. After the rains begin in 
that southern climate, — 

" ' Earth throbs and heaves 
With pregnant prescience of life and leaves; 
The shadows darken 'neath the tall trees' screen, 
While round their stems the rank and velvet green 
Of undergrowth is deeper still; and there 
Within the double shade and steaming air, 
The scarlet palm has fixed its noxious root, 
And hangs the glorious poison of its fruit; 
And there, 'mid shaded green and shaded light, 
The steel-blue silent birds take rapid flight 
From earth to tree and tree to earth; and there 
The crimsoned-i)lumaged parrot cleaves the air 
Like flying fire, and huge brown owls awake 
To watch, far down, the stealing carpet-snake 
Fresh-skinned and glowing in his charming dyes. 
With evil wisdom in the cruel eyes 
That glint like gems as o'er his head flits by 
The blue-black armor of the emperor-fly ; 
And all the humid earth displays its powers 
Of prayer, with incense from the hearts of flowers 
That load the air with beauty and with wine 
Of mingled color. . . 

'♦ 'And high ©'erhead is color: round and round 
The towering gums and tuads, closely wound 
Like cables, creep the climbers to the sun, 
And over all the reaching branches run 
And hang, and still send shoots that climb and wind 



14 SONGS FROM THE SOUTHERX SEAS. 

Till every arm and spray and leaf is twined, 

And miles of trees, like brethren joined in love, 

Are drawn and laced; while round them and above, 

AVlien all is knit, the creeper rfests for days 

As gathering might, and then one blinding blaze 

Of very glory sends, in wealth and strength, 

Of scarlet flowers o'er the forest's length ! ' 

" There are deep springs of familiar feeling (as the mother's 
grief for the estrangement of her savage -hearted son) also 
touched in this poem, in which there is due artistic sense 
and enjoyment of the weirdness of the motive; and, in short, 
we could imagine ourselves recurring more than once to the 
story, and liking it better and better. ' The Dog Guard ' is the 
next best story in the book ; — a horrible fact, treated with 
tragic realism, and skilfully kept from being merely hor- 
rible. . . . Some of the best poems in the book are the pre- 
ludes to the stories." 

Boston Advertiser, 

" The first, and in many respects the best poem in the book, 
is ' The King of the Yasse,' which is a story of the very 
earliest settlement of Australia by Europeans, and before a 
convict settlement w^as established there. There is to it far 
greater care and finish than to any of the other long poems. 
In some parts it is weird and strange to a degree ; in others it 
is pathetic, — everywhere it is simple, with a pleasant flow" of 
rhythm, and closely true to nature. It is followed by ' The 
Dog Guard,' a poem which leaves an impression on the mind 
like Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner' — a subject which, but for 
great skill in the treatment, would have been repulsive. As it 
stands in the book it shows eminent descriptive po^ver, and a 
certain freedom and daring that lifts it far above the common- 
place. Interspersed among the longer poems are short verses, 
which must answer the same purpose in the book as the or- 
ganist's interludes, helping out the value of that which 
precedes, and that which follows. Some of these are more 
than excellent. They stand out as a peculiar feature of the 



ISONG8 fko:m the soutiieiin seas. 15 

book, adding to its completeness, as they will add to the poet's 
reputation. Preceding ' The Dog Guard ' we have the follow- 
ing, which perhaps is as characteristic as any of the preludes. 
It will be seen that the burden of this, as indeed of the whole 
book, is Western Australia : — 

" ' Nation of Sun and Sin, 

Thy flowers and crimes are red, 
And thy heart is sore within 
While the glory crowns thy head. 
Land of the songless birds, 
What was thine ancient crime, 
Burning through lapse of time 
Like a iirophet's cursing words? 

*' ' Aloes and ^Nlyrrli and tears 
Mix in thy bitter wine: 
Drink, while the cup is thine, 
Drink, for the draught is sign 
Of thy reign in coming years.' 

"Mr. O'Reilly has done his work faithfully and well; he has 
given us in his book more than he promised us in the preface; 
and to-day, with his first jjoetical venture before the public, he 
has added another to the laurels he has already won in other 
fields." 

Nev: York Tribune. 

' ' These songs are the most stirring tales of adventure im- 
aginable, chiefly placed in Western Australia, a penal colony, 
which has ' received from the mother country only her shame 
and her crime.' The book is the very melodrama of poetry. 
. . . Mr. O'Reilly is a man whose career has been full of 
wild and varied adventui'e, and who has put these stirring 
scenes — all of which he saw, and part of which he was — into 
verse as spontaneous and unconventional as the life he de- 
scribes. His rhymed tales are as exciting as ghost stories, and 
we have been reading them while the early sullen ISTovember 
night closed in, with something the same feeling, the queer 
shiver of breathless expectation, with which we used to listen 
to legends of ghosts and goblins by our grandmother's firelight. 



16 SONGS FROM THE SOUTHKIIX SEAS. 

Not that the supernatural figures too largely in these tales, — 
the actors in them are far more formidable than any disem- 
bodied spirits. . . . ' The King of the Yasse ' is a wonderful 
story, in ^yllich a dead child is raised to life by a pagan incan- 
tation and the touch of a mystic pearl on the face, — which 
will charm the lovers of the miraculous. ' The Amber Whale,' 
'The Dog Guard,' and 'Haunted by Tigers,' are in the same 
vein with ' The Monster Diamond.' Thrilling tales all of them. 
' Chunder All's Wife' is a charming little Oriental love story; 
a 'Legend of the Blessed Virgin' is full of tenderness and 
grace, for Mr. O'Reilly is both a Catholic and an Irishman; 
and I cannot close my extracts from his book more fittingly 
than with his heartfelt lines to his native land : — 



*' ' It chanced to me upon a time to sail 

Across the Southern Ocean to and fro ; 
And, landing at fair isles, by stream and vale 

Of sensuous blessing did we ofttimes go. 
And months of dreary joys, like joys in sleep, 

Or like a clear, calm stream o'er mossy stone, 
Unnoted passed our hearts with voiceless sweep, 

And left us yearning still for lands unknown. 

'* ' And when we found one, — for 'tis soon to find 

In thousand-isled Cathay anotlier isle,— 
For one short noon its treasures tilled the mind. 

And then again we yearned, and ceased to smile. 
And so it was, from isle to isle we passed, 

Like wanton bees or boys on flowers or lips ; 
And when that all was tasted, then at Jast 

We thirsted still for draughts instead of sips. 

" ' I learned f r< m t'.iis there is no Southern land 
Can fill with lo/e the hearts of Northern men. 
Sick minds need change; but, when in liealth they stand 
'Xeath foreign skies their love flies home again. 

" ' And thus with me it was; the yearning turned 
From laden airs of cinnamon away. 
And stretched far westward, while t}ie full heart burned 
With love for Ireland, looking on Cathay ! 



SONGS FROM THE SOUTHERN SEAS. 17 

'• ' My first dear love, all dearer lor thy <^rief ! 

My land that has no peer in all the sea 
For verdure, vale, or river, flower or leaf, — 

If first to no man else, thou'rt first to nie. 
New loves may come with duties, but the first 

Is deepest yet, — the mother's breath and smiles : 
Like that kind face and breast where I was nursed 

Is my poor land, the Niobe of isles.' " 

3/y. li, H. Stoddard, in Scrlbuer''s Monthly, 

'• ' The King of the Yasse,' the opening poem in Mr. O'Reilly* s 
volume, is a remarkable one; and if the legend be the creation 
of Mr. O' Heilly, it places him high among the few really imag- 
inative poets. . . . This, in brief, is the outline of the 
'King of the Yasse.' In it we could point out many faulty 
lines. William Morris could have spun off the verse more flu- 
ently, and Longfellow could have imparted to it his usual grace. 
Still, we are glad it is not from them, but from Mr. O'Reilly 
that we receiTC it. The story is simply and strongly told, and is 
imaginative and pathetic. It is certainly the most poetic poem 
in the volmne, though by no means the most striking one. ' The 
Amber Whale' is more characteristic of Mr. O'Reilly's genius, 
as ' The Dog Guard ' and ' The Dukite Snake ' are more char- 
acteristic of the region in which he is most at home 

He is as good a balladist as Walter Thornbury, who is the only 
other living poet who could have written ' The Old Dragoon's 
Story.' " 

Boston Gazette. 

" This is a volume of admirable poetry. The more ambitious 
poems in the book are in narrative form, and are terse and 
spirited in style, and full of dramatic power and effect. Mr. 
O'Reilly is both picturesque and epigrammatic, and writes with 
a manly straightforwardness that is very attractive. ... Of 
the sickly sentimentality that forms the groundwork of so much 
of our modern poetry, not a trace is to be found in this book. 
The tone throughout is healthy, earnest and pure. There is 
also an independence and originality of thought and treatment 



18 SONGS FROM THE SOUTHERN SEAS. 

that are very striking, and which prove not tlie least attractive 
features of the book. Some of the stories are conceived with 
unusual power, and are developed with scarcely less effect and 
and skill." 

Boston Times, 

" Some reminiscences of his romantic life, the poet has woven 
into the verses that fill this volume. Very grim reminiscences 
they are, of crime and death and horrors dire ; but they repre- 
sent faithfully, we have no doubt, the society, or rather sav- 
agery, of those far and fearsome lands. Most of the poems are 
stories, sombre in substance, but told with a vehement vigor 
that is singularly harmonious with their themes. The opening 
poeni, ' The King of the Yasse,' preserves a strange and 
pathetic legend, which the i)oet has wrought into a powerful, 
but most painful story. His imagination revels in pictures of 
weird desolation and the repulsive and appalling prodigies of 
animal and vegetable life in the tropic world ; and the effect 
of these presented in quick succession, and varied only by epi- 
sodes of human sin or suffering, is positively depressing. Such 
passages as this abound in the poem: — 

" ' lu that strange country's heart, whence comes the breath 
Of hot disease and pestilential death, 
Lie leagues of wooded swamp, that from the hills 
Seem stretching meadDws; hut the flood that tills 
These valley basins has the hue of ink 
And dismal doorways open on the brink. 
Beneath the gnarled arms of trees that grow 
All leafless to the top, from roots below 
The Lethe flood; and he who enters there 
Beneath this screen sees rising, ghastly bare, 
Like mammoth bones within a charnel dark, 
The white and ragged stems of paper-bark, 
That drip down moisture with a ceaseless drip, ^ 
With lines that run like cordage of a ship; 
For myriad creepers struggle to the light. 
And twine and meet o'erhead in murderous fight 
For life and sunshine. . . . 



SONGS FKOM THE ISOUTHEKN SEAS. It) 

'.' ' Between the water and the matted screen, ^ 
The bald-head vultures, two and tvro, are seen 
In dismal grandeur, with revolting face 
Of foul grotesque, like spirits of the place; 
And now and then a spear-shaped wave goes by, 
Its apex glittering with an evil eye 
That sets above its enemy and prey 
As from the wave in treacherous, slimy way 
The black snake winds, and strikes the bestial bird, 
AVhose shriek-like wailing on the hills is heard.' 

''The 'Dog Guard' is a tale of horrors. 'The Amber 
Whale' and 'Haunted by Tigers' are founded on whaling 
incidents, and the latter, especially, is eloquent with the woe of 
tragedy. There are a few poems in the volume written in a 
lighter mood. .'Uncle Xed's Tale' is a very spirited tale of 
battle. ' The Fishermen of Wexford ' is one of the best pieces 
in the collection — almost severe in its simple realism, but ten- 
derly pathetic. We have rarely seen a first volume of poems so 
rich in promise as is this. It is singularly free from the faults 
of most early poems, and exhibits a maturity of thought and a 
sober strength of style that would do credit to any of our older 
poets." 

Boston Commercial Bulletin. 

" His descriptive powers are remarkably strong and vivid, 
and his imagination powerful and vigorous. Yet it is evident 
from a glance at the minor poems of ' Golu,' and ' My Mother's 
Memory,' that the author has an imagination that will not 
desert him on brighter and more gracefid flights of fancy. 
Altogether the volume is one of much more than ordinary 
originality and excellence." 

Worcester Palladium, 

"He shows originality and good descriptive power, and he 
treats his subjects con amove. . . . The author had the 
very best reason in the world for writing this collection, and a 
second volume wiU be awaited with reason ; for strong points 



20 SONGS FROM THE SOUTHERN SEAS. 

are displayed, and a person who writes because his heart wills 
it, sooner or later wins the heart of the public." 

Bangor Whig. 

*' There is no one of the poems the book contains that has 
not running through it a sort of realism that at once takes pos- 
session of the reader's mind, and he looks upon it, as it were, 
as an actual event." 

Mr. Newell (Orpheus C. Kerr) in The Catholic Beview, 

"Judged in all the phases of his talent presented by this 
book, Mr. O'Reilly is unquestionably a man of true poetic 
verve and temperament, with too much reverence for the noble 
gift of song to sophisticate it with mawkish aif ectations or con- 
ceited verbal ingenuities. No obscure line patches his page ; no 
fantastic mannerism accentuates his style ; no pretendedly met- 
aphysical abstraction egotizes what he thinks worthy of gift to 
mankind," 

Utica HeralcL 

" In the leading poem of Mr. O'Reilly's collection, entitled, 
* The King of the Yasse,' there are novelties of scene and leg- 
end which alone claim the attention. . . . The poem is in 
many respects a wonderful one, and contains many subtleties 
of thought and expression, which it is impossible to reproduce 
in scanty extract " 

Literary Woydd^ Boston, 

. . . '^ Mr. O'Reilly unquestionably possesses poetical tal- 
ent of a high and rare order. He excels in dramatic narrative, 
to which his natural intensity of feeling lends a peculiar force. 
His verse is sometimes careless, and often lacks finish; but 
writers are few, nowadays, who have a better capital in heart 
or hand for successful poetical work than that which is evi-' 
denced in this volume." 



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